UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS 
LIBRARY 


Class 

s'vwn 


Book 

M56h 


Volume 


\ 

c^T 


. 1 


Je  06-10M 


~\ 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016 


https://archive.org/details/historyofengland01mart 


Standard  Histories  for  Every  Library. 

UNIFORM  IN  STYLE. 

Mill™  TwhTchisPadd!d  By  EDWARD  GIEB0N- 

SlSS^acxs-s 

Hto  the: ^dicSnAof  jaS  the  £%&**”  JVUVS  CiESAR 

A New  Edition  with  the  Author’s  last  correct  * a ,688,  By  David  Hume. 
is  Prefixed  a short  account  of  his  life,  written  “Sel7w7trrV°  Which 
6 vols.,  crown,  8vo,  cloth,  extra,  per  set  no . “ ®If#  Wltb  steel  Portrait, 

half  calf,  gilt,  per  set,  $18.00.  ’ * * eeP»  library  style,  per  set,  $9.00 

greSS CaU°es  which  fr°“  time  to 

Thomas  Babinoton ^crOTA^^a^^Fd0-?88101^  °F  JAMES  Ir-  By 
crown  8to,  with  a stfel  portran  C,„t  e.f  ’ W,th  S°  Inde*'  5 ™ls' 

^ style-  Per  set,  $7.50;  half  calf,  gilt,  $15.00.  ' **'  ***  ^ $5'°0  ! sheeP-  Iibrar7 

efforntVnd-fnn^r“’  *•**  wfthoueh?Uornhrmaffe  to  Macaulay.  Steady 

effort,  or  without  outward  sign  of  if  hVSgh  u-0nt,lnues  to  flow;  and  without 

ppi 

t“~ 

CENTUE/tOFThTcrI^  OP  THE  XIXth 

_ atnyiVstooTtV?a!1f,Igntw2.ooeqUel  *° 

the  last  twenty  yearS bee°n  ^““eiteM^ely  r^ln'Eng"  T’’k  £riften  within 
“ Miss  Martineau’s  in(w„  • 7 ead  ln  Et>gland.”-.Ata7  quarterly. 

affairgshisbl°nnging  to  the  Bherll'sctfooYofpoliHciTer  Vie61-  T??®7,  ?reater:  and, 

?q in  Lf  ^e,n.erally  candid  and  impartial  CSn  - . T °.f  stat®smen  and  public 

deZlfnreshl?X  C?ntrasfc  to  the  vSs  W7f  AH^nSeSty7Ie  Is  laden  with  meaning 
g a pIaoe  ,n  every  pubiic  •»*  and  wefi 


THE 


History  of  England 

FROM  THE 


COMMENCEMENT  OF  THE  XIXth  CENTURY 
TO  THE  CRIMEAN  WAR. 


BY 

HARRIET  MARTINEAU. 


VOL.  I. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

PORTER  & COATES, 

822  Chestnut  Street. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1864,  by 
Walker,  Wise,  and  Company, 

in  the  Clerk’s  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


O G? 


) 


'hi  SG  j?^ 

V-l 


CONTENTS. 


0 

a 


F 

U> 

r~ 


77 

£ 


Page 

Preface  to  the  American 
Edition 1 

BOOK  I. 

1790  — 1800. 


Balancing  System 11 

Russia 12 

Austria 13 

Prussia 14 

England 14 

France 15 

Minor  European  Powers 16 

French  Revolution 17 

Napoleon  Bonaparte 17 

Made  First  Consul 17 

Proposal  of  Peace 18 

His  Successes 20 

Condition  of  England 21 

Mr.  Pitt 21 

Sedition 22 

Financial  Difficulty 22 

Mutiny 23 

Irish  Rebellion 23 

The  Royal  Family 23 

Land-owners 24 

Tradesmen 24 

Farmers 25 

Agricultural  Improvement 25 

Cotton  Manufacture 25 

Operatives 26 

Woollen  Manufacture 26 

Silk 26 

Hardware 27 

Condition  of  Middle  Class 27 

Of  Industrial  Classes 28 

Military  Liabilities 28 

Severity  of  the  Law 29 

Health 29 

Ireland 30 

The  Union 31 

Temper  of  the  Times 34 

1801. 

Mr.  Pitt 36 

The  Catholic  Question  in  the  Cabi- 
net   39 


Proposed  Change  of  Ministry 41 

Illness  of  the  King 43 

The  Northern  Confederacy 45 

English  Fleet  in  the  Baltic 46 

Battle  of  Copenhagen 46 

Armistice 48 

Pacific  Convention 49 

Expedition  to  Egypt 50 

Battle  of  Abookeer 51 

Death  of  Abercromby 52 

French  Evacuation  of  Egypt 52 

Mr.  Pitt’s  Resignation 52 

Mr.  Addington 53 

Peace  Negotiations 54 

Preliminaries  signed 54 

Terms  of  the  Treaty  of  Amiens  ...  57 
Definitive  Treaty  signed 57 

1801  — 6. 

The  Irish  Union 59 

Discontents  of  various  Parties 59 

Opinions  of  the  Government 62 

French  Tampering 63 

The  Emmetts 64 

Plot 64 

Outbreak 66 

Lord  Kilwarden 67 

Results 68 

Coercion . . 69 

Catholics  stirred  up 69 

Currency  Troubles 69 

Duke  of  Bedford  Viceroy 70 

1801—4. 

Precariousness  of  the  Peace 71 

Bantry  Bay  Mutiny 72 

Foreign  Travel 72 

Dissolution  of  Parliament 74 

Weakness  of  the  Premier 75 

French  Requisitions 76 

Peltier 76 

French  Aggressions 77 

King’s  Message 78 

Negotiation  with  Mr.  Pitt 79 

Stock  Exchange  Hoax 81 

War  declared 81 

Holland  81 


viii 


CONTENTS. 


Preparations  for  War 

The  Prince  of  Wales 

The  English  in  France 

First  Naval  Captures 

Loss  of  Hanover 

British  Policy 

The  Duke  of  Kent 

Position  of  the  Heir  Apparent .... 

Colonel  Despard’s  Plot 

Execution  of  Governor  Wall 

Prorogation  of  Parliament 

State  of  Parties 

The  Grenville  Letter 

Royal  Anxieties 

Meeting  of  Parliament 

Force  of  the  Country 

The  King’s  Illness 

New  Cooperation 

Last  Days  of  the  Addington  Min- 
istry   

Debate  on  the  Defence  of  the 

Country 

New  Administration 

Position  of  Mr.  Pitt 

Loss  of  West  India  Ships 

Incidents  in  France 

Solemn  Ceremonials  in  London. . . 

1804—  6. 

Napoleon  Emperor 

Mr.  Pitt  as  War  Minister 

Additional  Force  Bill 

National  Condition 

Continental  Alliances 

The  Catamaran  Expedition 

Relations  with  Spain 

Seizure  of  Treasure  Ships 

Reconciliation  of  Pitt  and  Adding- 
ton   

Declaration  of  War  with  Spain. . . 

Naval  Administration 

Lord  Melville 

Motion  of  Censure 

Lord  Melville’s  Defence 

His  Impeachment 

Resignation  of  Lord  Sidmouth  . . . 

Catholic  Question 

Prospects  of  the  War 

General  Mack’s  Surrender 

The  French  at  Vienna 

Nelson  in  the  Mediterranean 

Roving  the  Seas 

Battle  of  Trafalgar 

Death  of  Nelson 

His  Character 

Accession  of  Prussia  to  the  League 

Battle  of  Austerlitz 

Austrian  Treaty 

Mr.  Pitt’s  Illness 

His  Death 

1801  — 6. 

Arthur  Wellesley  in  India 


Subsidiary  System 146 

The  Mahrattas 147 

Five  Chiefs 147 

Their  Empire 149 

The  Mahratta  War 149 

Plan  of  the  Campaign 152 

General  Wellesley  in  the  Deccan  . 152 

Battle  of  Assye 153 

Battle  of  Argaum 153 

Colonel  Murray  in  Guzerat 154 

General  Lake  in  Hindustan 155 

Battle  of  Delhi 155 

Restoration  of  the  Mogul  Sovereign  156 

Battle  of  Laswarree 156 

Lieutenant- Colonel  Harcourt  in 

Cuttack 157 

Results  of  the  Campaign 158 

Salt  Monopoly 158 

Treaties 158 

Wellesley’s  Administration  in  In- 
dia   161 

Lord  Cornwallis  Governor-General  161 
His  Death 163 

1806  — 7. 

Meeting  of  Parliament 164 

The  King’s  Dislike  of  Mr.  Fox. . . 164 

Alarming  State  of  Affairs 165 

All  the  Talents 167 

The  Catholic  Question 168 

Lord  Grenville 171 

Charles  James  Fox 171 

Other  Ministers 175 

Opposition  Rancor 175 

First  Difficulties 176 

Military  Administration 177 

Financial 178 

Negotiation  for  Peace 178 

Reprobation  of  the  Slave-Trade . . . 181 

Wilberforce 183 

Colonial  Slave-Trade  Prohibition  . 184 

Acquittal  of  Lord  Melville 185 

Mr.  Fox’s  Illness 187 

Death  of  Lord  Thurlow 187 

Death  of  Mr.  Fox 187 

State  of  the  War 188 

Battle  of  Maida 189 

The  Cape  regained 190 

Buenos  Ayres 190 

Humiliation  of  Prussia 191 

Dissolution  of  Parties 193 

Dissolution  of  Parliament 193 

Strength  of  the  Cabinet 195 

No  Christmas  Recess 196 

Lord  Howick 196 

Mr.  Canning 196 

Mr.  Perceval 197 

Sir  Samuel  Romilly 197 

Francis  Horner 197 

Others 197 

Force  of  the  Country 199 

Financial  Scheme  . ." 200 

Abolition  of  the  Slave-Trade 201 


Page 

82 

84 

85 

86 

86 

87 

88 

89 

90 

91 

92 

92 

94 

95 

96 

98 

98 

99 

100 

100 

103 

104 

104 

104 

106 

108 

109 

109 

111 

111 

112 

112 

113 

115 

117 

119 

119 

120 

123 

124 

124 

125 

126 

129 

130 

131 

132 

134 

134 

135 

137 

138 

140 

140 

141 

144 


CONTENTS 


ix 


The  Catholics 

Irish  Act  of  1793 

Proposed  Relaxations 

Cabals 

The  King’s  Retractation 

The  Measure  dropped 

The  Ministry  dismissed 

Portland  Administration 

Offices  in  Reversion 

“No  Popery”  Cry 

Dissolution  of  Parliament 

“ The  Short  Administration  ” . . . . 


BOOK  II. 

1807  — 9. 

The  Portland  Administration  .... 

Mr.  Perceval 

Aspect  of  Public  Affairs 

Education 

Popular  Maintenance 

Emigration 

Bequests  of  the  Grenville  Ministry 

Buenos  Ayres  Expedition 

Dardanelles  Expedition 

Egyptian  Expedition 

Napoleon  and  Prussia 

His  Berlin  Decree 

Battle  of  Eylau 

Apathy  of  England 

Professions  of  Russia 

Conference  at  Tilsit 

Treaty  of  Tilsit 

Secret  Articles 

England  and  Denmark 

Seizure  of  the  Danish  Fleet 

Bombardment  of  Copenhagen  .... 

Russian  Declaration  of  War 

King  of  Sweden 

Swedish  Alliance  lost 

France  and  Portugal 

Opening  of  the  Peninsular  War  . . 
Court  of  Spain  and  Napoleon  .... 

Invasion  of  Portugal 

Departure  of  the  Royal  Family  for 

Brazil  

Napoleon  and  the  Spanish  Bour- 
bons   

Invasion  of  Spain 

Tumult  at  Madrid 

The  Court  enticed  to  Bayonne. . . . 

Spanish  Appeal  to  England 

Renunciation  of  Empire  by  the 

Bourbons  

Landing  of  British  in  Spain 

Successes  of  Sir  A.  Wellesley 

Convention  of  Cintra 

Aspect  of  European  Affairs 

Meeting  at  Erfurth 

Battle  of  Wagram 

YOL.  I.  b 


Page 


Andrew  Hofer 262 

False  Hopes  of  Spain 262 

Sir  John  Moore’s  Campaign  263 

His  Retreat 264 

Battle  of  Corunna 267 

Death  of  Sir  John  Moore 267 

Gloomy  Aspect  of  the  War 268 

The  Walcheren  Expedition 269 

Naval  Successes 274 

Lord  Collingwood 274 

His  Death 275 

Troubles  with  America 275 

Orders  in  Council 275 

Charges  against  the  Duke  of  York  277 

His  Resignation 280 

Inquiry  into  Abuses 281 

Quarrel  between  Lord  Castlereagh 

and  Mr.  Canning 283 

Their  Duel 284 

Changes  in  the  Cabinet 284 

Mr.  Perceval  Prime  Minister 286 

The  Jubilee 287 

Napoleon’s  Divorce 287 

His  New  Marriage 287 

Gloom  at  Home  and  Abroad 288 

Celebration  of  the  50th  year  of  the 
Reign 289 

1810  — 12. 

0.  P.  Question 290 

Opening  of  the  Session 292 

Mr.  Peel 293 

Adversity 294 

Commercial  Crash 294 

Efforts  at  Reforms 295 

Bullion  Committee 296 

Penal  Law  Reform 300 

Condition  of  the  Clergy 301 

Dissenters’  Licenses  Bill 302 

Privilege  Question 303 

Parliamentary  Censure  of  Burdett  306 
Sir  F.  Burdett  committed  to  the 

Tower 307 

His  Release 309 

Weakness  of  the  Government 311 

Death  of  Windham 312 

Death  of  the  Princess  Amelia  ....  314 

Insanity  of  the  King 314 

Meeting  of  Parliament 315 

Repeated  Adjournments 315 

Proposition  of  a Regency 316 

The  Princes’  Protest 316 

Restrictions  on  the  Regent 318 

Negotiations  with  Lords  Grenville 

and  Grey 318 

The  Ministry  unchanged  320 

The  King’s  Health 322 

The  Court 322 

New  Negotiations 323 

Lords  Castlereagh  and  Sidmouth 

in  the  Cabinet 323 

Virtual  Close  of  the  Reign 324 


Page 

205 

205 

207 

208 

210 

211 

212 

213 

213 

213 

214 

215 

216 

217 

220 

221 

222 

223 

223 

223 

226 

229 

230 

230 

232 

233 

235 

236 

237 

238 

239 

240 

241 

244 

245 

246 

247 

247 

248 

249 

250 

251 

252 

254 

254 

255 

257 

258 

259 

259 

261 

261 

262 


X 


CONTENTS. 


Page 


Mr.  Perceval’s  Death 326 

Provision  for  his  Family 328 

1810  — 14. 

State  of  the  Nation 329 

Commercial  Pressure 329 

Crimes 331 

Wages  331 

Machinery 334 

Frame-Breaking  . . . . 334 

Luddite  Acts 335 

Progress  of  Luddism 336 

Lord  Sidmouth  Home  Secretary.  338 
Punishment  of  the  Luddites 339 


1809  — 14. 

Peninsular  War 341 

Sir  A.  Wellesley 341 

Difficulties 341 

Campaign  of  1809  342 

Expulsion  of  the  French  from  Port- 
ugal   342 

Difficulties 343 

Talavera  344 

Wellesley  becomes  Wellington  . . . 344 

Gloomy  Close  of  the  Year 346 

Campaign  of  1810 347 

Loss  of  Cities 347 

Wellington’s  Defensive  Policy  . . . 348 

Lines  of  Torres  Yedras 348 

Busaco 349 

Retreat  of  the  French 350 

Grant  for  the  Relief  of  the  Portu- 
guese   350 

Napoleon’s  Present  Supremacy. . . 351 

Reaction  approaching 352 

The  Guerrillas 352 

Difficulties  of  the  French 353 

Of  the  British 354 

Campaign  of  1811 355 

Albuera 355 

Siege  of  Badajoz  relinquished  . . . 355 

Campaign  of  1812 355 

Ciudad  Rodrigo 355 

Badajoz 355 

Salamanca 359 

Occupation  of  Madrid 359 

Failure  at  Burgos 360 

Evacuation  of  Madrid 360 

Retreat 360 

Northern  Wars  of  Napoleon 362 

Burning  of  Moscow 362 

Napoleon’s  Retreat 362 

National  Hope 363 

Wellington  Commander-in-Chief 

of  Armies  in  Spain 365 

Campaign  of  1813 365 

French  retire  Northwards  366 

Vittoria 367 

French  evacuate  Madrid  369 

Failure  at  St.  Sebastian 370 


Page 

St.  Sebastian  taken 3^1 

Wellington  enters  France 371 

Pamplona  taken 372 

The  Allies  in  France 373 

Napoleon’s  Treaty  with  Ferdinand  375 

Its  Rejection  in  Spain .-. . . 376 

Intrigues  in  Catalonia 376 

Campaign  of  1814 377 

Ferdinand  at  Home 377 

Catalonia  evacuated  by  the  French  377 

Bayonne  invested 378 

Bordeaux  entered  378 

Toulouse  379 

Soult’s  Retreat 379 

News  of  Napoleon’s  Abdication  . . 379 

Return  of  the  Army 380 

Of  Wellington 380 


1812  — 15. 


Relations  with  the  United  States  . 381 
Difficulty  about  a Government  in 

England 383 

Repeal  of  the  Orders  in  Council  . . 384 

Declaration  of  War 384 

First  Blow  struck 386 

Employment  of  Indians 386 

British  Successes  on  Land 389 

Losses  at  Sea 389 

Extensive  Blockade 390 

Russian  Intervention 390 

Proposals  of  Peace 390 

Capture  of  Washington 393 

Commission  at  Ghent 395 

Mississippi  Expedition 396 

Battle  of  New  Orleans 396 

Retreat  of  the  British 398 

Capture  of  Fort  Mobile 398 

Treaty  of  Ghent 398 

1812  — 14. 

The  Regent  and  his  Family 399 

The  Princess  Charlotte 400 

The  Prince  of  Orange 401 

Her  Flight  to  her  Mother 401 

Prince  Leopold  of  Saxe  Coburg. . 401 

Marriage 402 

Irish  Affairs 402 

The  Press 403 

Mr.  Perry 403 

Mr.  Cobbett 404 

Mr.  Scott 404 

The  Hunts 404 

Printers’  Name  Bill 405 

Creation  of  Vice-Chancellorship..  405 

Attainder 406 

High  Treason  Sentence 407 

East  India  Company’s  Charter  . . . 408 
Church  Establishment  in  India...  409 

Education 410 

Bible  Societies 411 

Joanna  Southcote 412 


CONTENTS. 


xi 


New  Plan  of  Finance 

Stock  Exchange  Fraud 

Extraordinary  Weather 

Burning  of  the  Custom-House. . . . 

1813  — 15. 

Napoleon’s  Renewed  Efforts 

New  Compact  of  Allies 

The  Allies  defeated 

Armistice 

Conference 

Austrian  Declaration  of  War 

Battle  of  Dresden 

Succeeding  Battles 

Sufferings  of  the  French 

Napoleon’s  Vacillation 

Remonstrance  of  his  Marshals. . . . 

Retreat 

First  Battle  of  Leipsic 

Second  Battle 

Hanau  

Napoleon  at  Paris 

Independence  of  Holland  pro- 
claimed   

The  Allies  cross  the  Rhine 

Congress  of  Chatillon 

Partial  Success  of  Napoleon 

Treaty  of  Chaumont 

Bourbon  Manifestations 

Capitulation  of  Paris 

Entry  of  the  Allies 

Provisional  Government 

Abdication  of  Napoleon 

Attempted  Suicide 

Desertion  of  the  Empress 

Departure  for  Elba 

Death  of  Josephine 

Return  of  the  Bourbons 

Treaty  of  Paris 

London  Gayety 

Wellington's  Return 


Page 

Popular  Misgivings 434 

Distrust  Abroad 435 

Napoleon’s  Return 435 

Arrival  in  Paris 436 

Treaty  of  Vienna 437 

Constitutional  Monarchy  at  Paris.  437 
Napoleon  proceeds  to  Belgium  . . . 438 

The  British  at  Brussels 438 

Quatre  Bras  and  Ligny 438 

Waterloo  439 

Napoleon’s  Return  to  Paris 441 

Is  carried  to  St.  Helena 441 

Capitulation  of  Paris 442 

The  News  in  England 442 

Second  Treaty  of  Paris 442 

Wellington’s  "Farewell 442 

1801  — 15. 

Steam  Navigation 443 

Death  of  Boulton 444 

Chain  Cables  444 

Steam-Carriages 444 

Count  Rumford 445 

Plymouth  Breakwater 445 

Chelsea  Hospital 445 

Haileybury  College 445 

Tea 445 

Joint-Stock  Bread  Company 446 

National  Isolation 447 

Foreign  Literature 447 

The  Literary  Fund 447 

Music 448 

The  Edinburgh  Review 448 

The  Quarterly  Review 449 

Bentham 449 

Science 450 

Necrology.  Men  of  Science 450 

Artists 452 

Authors 452 

Travellers 454 


Page 

413 

414 

415 

416 

418 

419 

419 

419 

419 

419 

420 

421 

422 

422 

423 

423 

423 

424 

425 

, 425 

425 

426 

426 

426 

427 

428 

428 

428 

429 

429 

430 

431 

431 

432 

432 

433 

433 

434 


PREFACE  TO  THE  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


IT  is  with  much  pleasure  that  I comply  with  the  invitation  of 
the  American  publishers  of  this  History  to  join  my  efforts 
with  theirs  to  make  it  worthy  of  a reappearance  in  a new  coun- 
try. I will  relate,  in  a few  words,  what  has  been  done. 

In  1846,  Mr.  Charles  Knight,  whose  praises  need  not  to  be  cel- 
ebrated here,  began  the  publication  of  this  work,  which  he  pro- 
posed to  write,  from  end  to  end,  himself.  It  was  not  long  before 
he  found  that  he  had  undertaken  a labor  too  vast  to  be  recon- 
ciled in  any  way  with  the  other  demands  on  his  time  and  powers ; 
and  he  consigned  his  task  to  Mr.  Craik,  now  a professor  in  the 
Queen’s  College,  Belfast.  After  a time,  Mr.  Craik  also  gave  up, 
and  the  work  seemed  likely  to  stop  at  the  end  of  the  First  Book  ; 
but,  on  Mr.  Knight’s  stating  the  case  to  me,  in  great  solicitude 
about  his  scheme  and  the  work,  I undertook  to  try  what  I could 
do.  For  some  time  I thought  I must  stop,  too,  — so  overwhelm- 
ing seemed  the  subjects  to  be  treated,  and  the  material  to  be  han- 
dled. I gained  courage,  however,  as  the  work  went  on ; and  I 
was  enabled  to  complete  it  without  pause.  I began  in  the  au- 
tumn of  1848,  and  the  last  pages  were  at  press  before  the  close 
of  1849.  These  dates  are  mentioned  as  showing  the  standpoint 
from  which  the  work  is  written. 

I must  be  understood  as  having  no  concern  in  the  First 
Book,  except  that  in  the  latest  edition  I prepared  the  short 
chapter  on  the  South- American  Republics.  The  Indian  chapter 
is  by  yet  another  hand.  Mr.  Knight’s  portion  extends  from  the 
beginning  to  that  Indian  chapter  ; and  Professor  Craik  wrote  the 
rest  of  Book  I.  For  all  that  follows  I am  responsible. 

VOL.  t.  1 


2 


PREFACE  TO  THE  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


As  the  work  is  now  to  be  republished,  after  the  lapse  of  years, 
it  seems  almost  necessary  to  carry  on  the  narrative  to  the  end 
of  the  Peace.  The  only  reason  for  closing  it  at  the  date  of  1846 
was  that  we  had  got  no  further  in  our  experience.  From  the 
time  (1854)  that  war  had  closed  the  period,  it  was  absurd  to 
stop  at  any  earlier  date.  I have  therefore  added  a sketch  of  the 
seven  years  which  preceded  the  war  with  Russia ; and  thus  the 
American  edition  will  possess  a kind  of  completeness  which  has 
been  wanting  to  the  English  one. 

There  are  many  reasons  why  I earnestly  desire  that  the  edition 
intended  for  American  readers  should  be  as  good  as  I can  make 
it ; but  the  chief  consideration  is,  that  the  privilege  of  a new 
country  and  a young  nation  in  benefiting  by  the  experience  of 
the  old  may  be  somewhat  lessened  or  increased  by  the  way  of 
telling  the  story  of  that  experience.  Tam  anxious  that  any  such 
advantage  should  not  be  weakened  by  fault  of  mine.  Hence  I 
have  carefully  corrected  any  mistakes  that  I could  hear  of,  and 
have  done  my  best  with  the  supplementary  chapter. 

The  chief  embarrassments  and  troubles  of  an  old  nation  like 
the  British  are  such  as  a young  republic  can  never,  or  ought 
never,  to  suffer  from.  The  most  prominent  feature  in  the  domes- 
tic history  of  this  long  peace  is  the  reform  of  antique  institutions, 
and  of  abuses  scarcely  less  old.  For  the  United  States  there  is 
no  Catholic  Question,  no  Irish  Church  or  Scotch  Church  Ques- 
tion ; no  difficulties  between  Church  and  State,  or  Church  and 
Dissenters,  or  about  National  Education,  on  account  of  religious 
differences  and  claims.  For  the  United  States  there  is  no  such 
question  of  Representative  Reform  as  convulsed  Great  Britain 
thirty-five  years  ago,  because  the  Republic  has  not  yet  outgrown 
any  of  its  principles  of  representation,  as  England  had.  For  the 
United  States  there  is  no  peril  of  exhaustion  and  decay  by  an 
inappropriate  and  corrupted  Poor-law,  such  as  that  which  was 
truly  called  the  gangrene  in  the  social  life  of  England,  which  it 
was  equally  dangerous  to  remove  and  to  let  alone.  The  success 
with  which  the  reform  was  at  length  accomplished  may  interest 
American  readers  ; but  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  there  will  never  be 
reason  for  any  closer  sympathy.  In  the  same  way  the  United 
States  have  no  colonial  troubles  to  manage,  no  conquered  coun- 
tries — territories  conquered  centuries  before  the  present  genera- 


PREFACE  TO  THE  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


3 


tion  saw  the  light  — to  elevate,  to  attach,  and  to  make  free  and 
happy ; and  the  best  friends  of  the  Republic  will  ever  pray  that 
no  generation  of  the  citizens  will  in  any  age  bequeath  such  an 
inheritance  of  difficulty  and  pain  to  its  posterity.  The  United 
States  have  no  such  mass  of  heterogeneous  and  unsystematized 
Law  as  England  still  has  to  digest,  consolidate,  and  arrange ; nor 
such  anomalies  of  jurisdiction  and  administration  to  reconcile  or 
abolish.  The  United  States  have  no  such  relics  of  feudal  times 
as  the  Game  Laws ; no  such  associations  in  an  irritable,  unhappy, 
and  perverse  portion  of  the  country  as  Orange  Societies  and 
Riband  Societies  and  Whiteboys  in  Ireland.  These  are  points  in 
the  History  of  modern  England  which  Americans  may  read  with 
a historical  interest,  and  may  perhaps  study  for  their  political 
or  economical  hearings  ; but  such  phenomena  can  hardly  serve 
as  direct  warning  or  instruction  to  a young  nation.  There  are 
other  experiences  which  may  possibly  be  found  more  directly 
profitable. 

One  of  the  gravest  of  the  world’s  doubts  about  young  republics 
has  always  been,  and  still  is,  whether  the  latter  are  capable,  in  a 
secure  and  permanent  way,  of  sustaining  international  relations. 
There  have  been  difficulties  enough  in  the  relations  of  the  United 
States  with  the  Powers  of  Europe  (especially  while  the  Southern 
policy  was  dominant  at  Washington)  to  secure  the  reader’s  atten- 
tion, perhaps,  to  the  history  of  European  transactions  within  the 
last  half-century,  in  as  far  as  they  depend  on,  or  have  been  gov- 
erned by,  the  treaties  of  1815.  Something  may  perhaps  be  learned 
of  the  real  meaning,  purpose,  and  use  of  the  much  defamed  Bal- 
ance of  Power,  and  of  the  admonition  conveyed  by  its  action,  — 
of  restraint  on  the  strong,  ambitious,  and  turbulent,  and  of  sup- 
port and  encouragement  to  weak  and  peaceful  States.  It  is  pos- 
sible that  an  accurate,  however  slight,  survey  of  the  disturbances 
in  Europe,  overt  or  precluded,  within  a most  critical  period,  may 
show  how  a peace  of  forty  years  was  preserved  by  the  foremost 
European  nation  ; and  may  explain  what  England  understands 
ind  intends  by  her  policy  of  non-intervention.  The  contrast  be- 
. ween  the  two  states  which  have  chosen  and  professed  an  opposite 
policy,  since  the  rise  of  the  Second  Empire  in  France,  must  be 
interesting  study  to  the  citizens  of  a republic  which  will  have 
booner  or  later  to  choose  between  going  out  to  the  world’s  wars 


4 


PREFACE  TO  THE  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


or  staying  at  home  ; and  the  comparison  between  the  France  of 
Louis  Philippe’s  time,  pacific  in  policy  and  corrupt  at  headquar- 
ters, and  the  France  of  the  new  Empire,  during  its  first  years, 
warlike  and  meddling  in  policy,  and  yet  more  corrupt  at  head 
quarters,  cannot  but  be  of  deep  interest  to  Americans.  Yet 
more  important  must  be  the  comparison  between  the  course  of 
aggressive  governments  and  that  of  England,  where  every  sort  of 
improvement  has  gone  on  with  accelerated  speed,  while  old  errors 
were  left  behind,  and  wiser  methods  adopted  at  home,  amidst  the 
leisure  secured  by  respecting  the  independence  of  other  nations 
abroad. 

From  the  standpoint  of  republican  principle,  it  is  yet  more 
important  that  Americans  should  profit  by  the  mistakes  and  suf- 
ferings of  old  countries  in  matters  of  domestic  policy.  In  Europe 
it  has  been  unavoidable  that  every  state  should  pass  through  a 
Protectionist  system  to  Free  Trade.  The  manufacture  and  trade 
which  grew  up  under  the  social  system  of  the  Middle  Ages  as- 
sumed a protective  system  to  be  a matter  of  course,  — as  it  actu- 
ally was  then.  After  infinite  suffering  from  the  operation  of 
that  system  in  England,  in  creating  class  interests  and  tyrannies, 
in  degrading  the  working  classes,  pinching  the  middle  class,  en- 
dangering the  safety  of  the  higher,  dividing  nations  which  ought 
to  have  been  friendly,  and  fostering  lawlessness  and  brutality  in 
one  half  of  the  poor,  and  pauperism  and  subservience  in  the  other, 
— after  having  apparently  exhausted  all  resources  of  the  land, 
manufacture,  and  trade,  and  gaining  no  way  in  rendering  the  bulk 
of  the  nation  intelligent,  comfortable,  and  independent,  the  coun- 
try, through  a few  of  its  wisest  men,  turned  into  the  path  of  free 
trade.  From  that  hour  it  has  been  clear  that  the  old  nation  is 
safe,  in  a way  that  it  never  was,  and  never  could  be,  before.  The 
rapidity  of  the  rise  of  the  laboring  classes  in  intelligence,  inde- 
pendence, and  comfort  is  beyond  the  hopes  of  the  most  confident. 
With  the  smugglers,  the  perilous  lawlessness  has  disappeared. 
Manufactures  grow,  and  trade  expands  at  a rate  never  before 
thought  of ; so  that  under  the  severe  trial  of  the  American  civil 
war,  England  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  suffered  at  all.  Other 
manufactures  have  expanded  in  compensation  for  the  temporary 
collapse  of  the  cotton  ; and  our  new  commerce  with  France  alone 
has  nearly  made  up  for  the  deficiency  across  the  Atlantic.  By 


PREFACE  TO  THE  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


5 


the  same  process,  the  reciprocating  countries  prosper  in  like  man- 
ner; the  natural  result  of  untrammelled  trading  being  that  it 
benefits  all  the  parties  concerned,  and  injures  none. 

If  the  adoption  of  the  contrary  system  in  the  United  States 
is  justified  on  the  ground  that  all  young  societies  have  a protec- 
tive system  first,  whatever  they  may  finally  think  proper  to  do 
about  throwing  open  their  commerce,  the  reading  of  the  English 
story  in  this  book  may  prompt  the  question,  why  young  societies 
should  at  our  time  of  day  pass  through  an  experience  of  wrong 
and  suffering  of  which  History  gives  them  warning.  States 
have  now  no  longer  to  work  their  way  up  from  a dark  and  soli- 
tary beginning,  as  of  old.  For  every  new  aspirant  there  is  the 
full  and  free  use  of  all  discoveries  in  natural  and  mechanical 
science,  made  common  by  the  full  and  free  communication  now 
established  all  round  the  world.  Why  should  not  the  same  bene- 
fit be  derived  from  discoveries  in  political,  social,  and  economical 
science  and  practice  ? The  newest  States  make  a great  early  start 
by  the  use  of  the  railroad,  the  telegraph,  the  steamboat,  and  agri- 
cultural and  manufacturing  improvements  : why  not  avail  them- 
selves of  the  discoveries  of  older  peoples  in  regard  to  the  self- 
corroding  operation  of  an  unchecked  legal  charity,  and  the  in- 
finitely corrupting  and  disastrous  effects  of  a Protective  Commer- 
cial system  ? In  regard  to  the  United  States,  something  more  is 
to  be  said,  and  is  everywhere  said.  A democratic  republic  is 
the  last  place  where  a policy  should  be  chosen,  or  in  any  way 
entertained,  which  directly  operates  in  the  creation  of  privileged 
classes  at  the  expense  of  the  commonwealth.  The  question  of 
Protection  or  Free  Trade  is  simply  the  question  of  preference 
of  the  interests  of  certain  classes  of  producers  or  those  of  the 
community ; and  a true  republican  policy  would  at  once  decide 
against  granting  privileges  to  certain  groups  of  the  citizens,  at 
the  expense  of  the  rights  of  the  whole  number.  The  world 
is  entitled  to  look  to  the  one  great  democratic  republic  of  our 
time  for  a full  adoption  of  the  broad  democratic  principle  of 
unrestricted  commerce,  — of  a commerce  yielding  revenue  to  the 
Government  in  a fair  and  easy  way,  by  duties  on  exotic  commod- 
ities, but  guiltless  of  at  once  diminishing  the  revenue  by  reducing 
the  means  of  the  public,  and  conferring  a monopoly  on  special 
classes  of  producers  at  the  expense  of  the  whole  nation  of  con- 


6 


PREFACE  TO  THE  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


sumers.  There  is  an  aristocratic  element  in  every  nation ; and 
there  is  selfish  greed,  less  or  more,  wherever  men  congregate. 
Thus  may  the  existence  and  maintenance  of  a Protective  policy 
in  a democratic  republic  be  accounted  for.  It  needs  but  a little 
more  knowledge  on  the  part  of  the  people  at  large  to  get  rid  of 
a mistake  so  perilous  and  so  mischievous.  If  the  question  were 
so  presented  in  its  simplest  form,  any  community  would  be  satis- 
fied at  once ; and  the  sufferings  of  nations  which  had,  in  old 
times,  no  opportunity  of  confronting  the  case  so  directly,  may  be 
a valuable  warning  to  young  states.  In  America,  at  this  time, 
the  consideration  to  purchasers  of  any  commodity  is  (as  in  all 
communities  everywhere),  how  to  get  the  best  article  for  then 
money.  If,  the  quality  being  equal,  the  article  can  be  made 
more  cheaply  at  home  than  it  can  be  offered  from  Europe,  the 
domestic  product  will  of  course  be  preferred,  and  will  need  no  pro- 
tection. If,  on  the  contrary,  the  European  producer  can  make 
his  commodity  so  cheaply  as  to  bear  the  cost  of  transport,  and 
yet  sell  for  a lower  price  than  the  American,  the  community 
ought  not  to  be  taxed  by  the  imposition  of  a duty  in  order  to 
sustain  a native  producer  who  cannot  stand  competition  from 
abroad.  This,  if  universally  understood,  and  the  amount  of  dis- 
guised taxation  imposed  on  the  citizens  at  large,  to  support  fac- 
titious industries,  if  fully  known,  would  put  an  end  at  once  to  a 
system  everywhere  pregnant  with  mischief  to  everybody,  and 
especially  inappropriate  to  the  New  World,  after  having  been 
outgrown  in  the  Old.  The  narrative  of  the  penalties  paid  by 
England  alone — to  say  nothing  of  those  of  France  — may  be 
a warning  such  as  England  would  willingly  yield  to  any  comrade 
among  the  nations.  The  readers  of  this  History  will  see  what 
griefs  were  presented  to  Parliament : now  agricultural  distress  ; 
now  Spitalfields  distress ; now  Glasgow  or  Paisley  or  Yorkshire 
distress.  Now  it  was  Wool ; now  it  was  Iron  ; now  it  was  Cot- 
ton; now  it  was  Silk.  There  was  always  some  “distress”  or 
other,  “ coming  whining  to  Parliament.”  At  the  same  time,  and 
from  the  same  cause,  there  was  a lawless  population  all  round 
the  coasts,  living  by  smuggling ; and  the  same  process  cheated  the 
revenue,  robbed  the  manufacturers,  and  corrupted  the  peasantry. 
At  the  same  time,  and  from  the  same  cause,  the  public  service 
and  private  fortune  were  injured  to  an  incalculable  extent. 


PREFACE  TO  THE  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


7 


Ships  and  houses  were  built  of  unfit  timber ; and  no  commodity 
which  could  be  protected  was  good  of  its  kind.  Everybody 
wore  clumsy  and  bad  shoes,  and  ugly  and  bad  gloves,  and  in- 
ferior silks  ; and  articles  which  are  now  of  the  commonest  conven- 
ience were  then  rarely  seen.  Before  the  claimants  of  protection 
would  give  up,  they  had  suffered  largely  in  their  own  fortunes. 
They  expected  ruin  from  free  trade  ; but  they  could  no  longer 
defer  the  emancipation  of  commerce.  Something  may  be  learned 
of  the  consequences  within  the  period  of  this  History.  It  will 
be  seen  that  a new  vigor  was  infused  into  the  whole  life  of  so- 
ciety from  the  hour  when  the  Protectionist  system  was  relaxed, 
with  or  without  reciprocity  abroad.  It  will  be  seen  that  the 
national  revenue  increased  after  every  reduction  of  duties  on 
commodities  ; that  the  manufacturers  flourished  more  under  free 
competition  than  they  ever  had  under  special  protection  ; while 
the  laboring  classes  at  once  earned  more,  and  could  buy  more 
with  their  earnings.  The  improvement  has  gone  on  to  the 
present  hour  ; and  now  England  has  been  able  to  endure  the 
suspension  of  much  of  her  trade  with  America,  without  injury, 
and  almost  without  consciousness.  The  development  of  a free 
trade  with  France  and  some  other  countries  has  compensated 
for  the  decline  in  another  quarter.  The  revenue  still  increases 
without  pause ; and  what  the  enrichment  of  society  generally  is 
may  be  judged  of  by  the  condition  of  its  laboring  class.  While 
we  are  far  from  having  outgrown  the  deplorable  consequences 
of  the  system  which  degraded  the  peasantry,  sported  with  the  for- 
tunes of  the  operatives,  generated  a gambling  spirit  in  the  trading 
classes,  and  established  a permanent  pauperism  in  the  country, 
we  now  see  a state  of  things  infinitely  better  than  ever  existed 
in  England  before ; — and,  as  the  surest  token  of  the  general 
elevation,  a laboring  class  becoming  gradually  converted  into  a 
body  of  capitalists,  — the  quality  of  the  labor  improving  in  pro- 
portion to  the  elevation  of  the  laborer.  In  all  time  to  come,  the 
thorough  renovation  of  the  frame  and  life  of  England,  and  her 
entrance  upon  a new  period  and  higher  character  of  national  life, 
will  date  from  the  long  Peace  when  she  had  opportunity  to  learn 
that  her  time  was  come  for  liberating  her  commerce,  and  com- 
mitting her  domestic  industry  to  its  own  energies. 

One  illustration  like  this  of  what  warning  younger  nations  may 


8 


PREFACE  TO  THE  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


take  from  our  mistakes  will  suffice  for  any  number  of  cases.  An 
other  instance  is  that  of  our  old  Taxation,  in  other  departments 
than  the  Customs.  This  must  henceforth  be  more  interesting  to 
Americans  than  it  could  be  while  they  had  no  Debt  worth  speak- 
ing of,  and  therefore  a very  light  taxation  for  national  purposes. 
Our  vicious  old  taxes  may  be  of  some  use  yet,  after  their  death, 
if  they  can  serve  as  warnings  to  new  peoples.  Again  : there  is 
the  character  and  management  of  a large  National  Debt  to  be 
studied.  Again:  there  is  the  vital  subject  of  the  Currency, 
which  it  concerns  every  republican  citizen,  at  all  times,  to  attend 
to,  when  there  is  a danger  (and  there  always  is  a danger)  of  a too 
free  resort  to  paper  money  for  relief  from  any  embarrassment.  It 
seems  to  me  that  no  thoughtful  citizen  of  any  nation  can  read  the 
story  of  the  years  before  and  after  Peeks  Bill  of  1819,  extend- 
ing over  the  crash  of  1825-6,  without  the  strongest  desire  that 
such  risks  and  calamities  may  be  avoided  in  his  own  country,  at 
any  sacrifice.  There  are  several  countries  under  the  doom  of 
retribution  for  the  license  of  an  inconvertible  paper  currency ; 
and  of  these  the  United  States  are  unhappily  one.  This  passage 
of  English  history  may  possibly  help  to  check  the  levity  with 
which  the  inevitable  “crash”  is  spoken  of  by  some  who  little 
dream  what  the  horrors  and  griefs  of  such  a convulsion  are.  It 
may  do  more,  if  it  should  convince  any  considerable  number  of 
observers  that  the  affairs  of  the  economic  world  are  as  truly  and 
certainly  under  the  control  of  Natural  Laws  as  the  world  of 
Matter  without,  and  that  of  Mind  within. 

There  may  be  some  use  also  in  the  study  by  Americans  of 
questions  which  still  perplex  and  trouble  the  old  country,  though 
such  difficulties  may  not  be  possible  in  the  American  case,  unless 
from  very  different  causes.  For  instance,  the  Labor  Question 
in  England  is  perhaps  the  gravest  remaining  trouble.  It  is  not 
the  low  condition  of  the  agricultural  laborers  that  chiefly  afflicts 
good  citizens ; for  that  condition  is  rising  from  year  to  year,  and 
there  is  no  reason  why  it  should  stop  till  science,  creating  a de- 
mand for  skilled  labor,  can  do  no  more  for  agriculture.  Neither 
is  it  the  amount  of  pauperism  remaining  to  be  dealt  with  ; for 
there  is  no  longer  a creation  of  pauperism  at  all  corresponding 
with  that  which  the  grave  absorbs.  The  ground  of  fear  is  that 
popular  liberty  is  overborne  by  the  Trades  Unions  of  our  days. 


PREFACE  TO  THE  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


9 


It  seems  to  be  so  in  every  country  where  such  combinations  can 
take  place ; and  the  anxious  questions  are  the  same  in  all  such 
cases ; the  questions  how  to  protect  the  liberties  of  individual 
workers  against  the  dictation  and  tyranny  of  leaders  and  pretend- 
ers of  their  own  class  ; and  what  are  the  chances  of  the  class 
becoming  informed  and  enlightened  in  regard  to  their  legal  and 
constitutional  liberties  in  time  to  check  the  spirit  of  despotism  in 
the  few,  and  animate  that  of  peaceful  resistance  to  oppression  in 
the  many.  At  present,  the  Trades  Unions  of  the  United  King- 
dom are  its  greatest  apparent  danger.  They  are  an  lmperium  in 
Imperio , in  which  insufferable  tyranny  is  exercised  by  working- 
men over  their  fellows,  from  which  there  seems  to  be  no  escape 
but  by  the  gradual  process  of  education.  The  laws  provide  protec- 
tion and  remedy ; but  recourse  to  that  protection  is  prevented  by 
the  same  oppression.  It  is  remarkable  that  the  one  intolerable 
despotism  which  at  this  day  exists  in  England  is  found,  not  in 
the  Government,  not  in  the  land- owners,  not  in  the  old-fashioned 
rural  districts,  but  in  the  modern  democratic  towns,  — the  des- 
potism of  working-men  over  fellow-workers  in  their  own  class 
and  their  own  trade.  This  is  a peril  which  may  occur  in  a 
republic,  and  especially  if  the  employers  possess  the  sort  of 
monopoly  created  by  a Protective  system.  There  may  be  other 
difficulties  and  dangers  in  America  from  the  heterogeneous  char- 
acter of  the  laboring  class  there,  under  the  influx  of  European 
immigration,  and  the  inevitable  emancipation  of  all  the  negroes 
in  the  country.  It  will  be  happy  for  both  nations  if  they  can 
learn  from  each  other,  and  help  each  other  in  difficulties  involv- 
ing both  distress  and  peril.  Every  wise  man  in  either  country 
probably  admits  that  the  Labor  Question — the  problem  of  recon- 
ciling the  rights  and  welfare  of  the  employers  and  employed  — 
is  the  most  serious  remaining  to  be  solved,  and  that  the  chief 
practical  anxiety  in  the  case  is  about  how  soon  and  how  effectu- 
ally the  employed  can  become  qualified  to  assert  their  rights  and 
liberties  in  the  face  of,  not  only  their  employers,  but  their  fellow- 
workmen. 

If  the  English  questions  which  I have  indicated  as  fit  to  warn 
and  guide  other  nations  should  seem  to  be  too  exclusively  of  an 
economic  quality,  I can  only  say  that  it  is  not  I,  but  the  nature 
of  the  case  which  is  answerable  for  this.  Nations  must  have  a 


10 


PREFACE  TO  THE  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


character  and  live  a life  of  their  own  ; and  they  cannot  take  their 
essential  qualities  from  each  other,  nor  modify  them  by  each  other. 
Economical  lessons  seem  to  be  in  fact  the  highest  kind  which  can 
be  made  directly  useful  by  the  experience  of  the  one  party  being 
studied  by  the  other.  It  may  be  suggested,  however,  that  eco- 
nomic questions  involve  both  politics  and  morals,  always  and  inex- 
tricably. A mistaken  principle  in  the  holding  of  land,  in  the  basis 
of  trade  or  manufacture,  or  in  the  construction  and  management 
of  a monetary  system,  creates  an  amount  of  sin,  of  crime,  of 
misery  and  disorder,  which  is  altogether  incalculable.  Mutual 
counsel,  by  which  such  consequences  may  possibly  be  avoided, 
must  be  desired  by  the  most  eminent  of  moralists,  and  by  the 
purest  of  patriots.  This  book  was  not  written  with  a view  to  any 
other  than  native  readers  ; but  if  it  should  afford  a single  clear 
hint  for  the  guidance  of  the  course  of  any  other  polity,  and  espe- 
cially of  that  of  America,  it  will  be  a fresh  satisfaction  to  the  lovers 
of  the  Old  Country  that  her  errors  and  sufferings  may  bear  good 
fruit  in  saving  some  pain  and  sorrow  to  the  New. 

HARRIET  MARTINEAU. 


The  Knoll,  Ambleside,  November  27,  1863. 


INTRODUCTION 


TO  THE 

HISTORY  OF  THE  PEACE. 


BOOK  I. 


CHAPTER  I. 

BEFORE  the  Nineteenth  century  opened,  the  inhabitants  of 
Europe  had  entered  upon  a new  period  in  the  history  of 
mankind  ; a period  which  must  be  a conspicuous  one  Balancing 
to  students  of  History  through  all  future  ages.  — Dur-  system, 
ing  the  greater  part  of  the  eighteenth  century,  the  potentates  of 
Europe,  and  the  higher  order  of  their  subjects  with  whom  they 
associated,  had  been  satisfied  that  the  height  of  political  civiliza- 
tion had  been  reached,  by  such  an  adjustment  of  the  Balance  of 
Power  as  had  never  before  been  attained.  The  system  appeared 
to  be  brought  very  near  perfection.  The  solar  system  hardly 
seemed  safer.  The  smaller  states  of  Europe  lived  and  moved 
among  the  larger  as  freely  and  securely  as  the  lesser  planets  in 
their  orbits,  protected  from  absorption  by  the  larger,  by  the  bal- 
ancing principle  which  kept  all  in  their  places.  It  is  true,  there 
was  a failure  here  and  there,  such  as  one  does  not  see  in  the  sys- 
tems of  the  sky.  There  was  the  partition  of  Poland,  for  one. 
The  plea  for  the  partition  was,  that  Poland  could  not  be  sustained 
as  a separate  power,  on  account  of  her  miserable  distractions ; 
and  that  she  must  have  been  absorbed  by  some  one  State,  de- 
stroying the  universal  balance,  if  she  had  not  been  portioned  out 
among  several.  There  were  complaints  in  certain  quarters,  too, 
about  the  reductions  of  Austrian  power,  and  the  aggrandizement 
of  Prussia : but,  upon  the  whole,  it  was  evident  to  the  world  at 
large  that  Europe  presented  the  most  advanced  political  condi- 
tion ever  witnessed,  in  the  spectacle  of  its  Balance  of  Power.  It 
was  not  merely  that  the  physical  forces  of  States  were  kept 
under  a salutary  restraint.  This  would  have  been  a good  thing, 
if  it  had  been  the  only  one ; but  it  was  a gross  kind  of  advan- 


12 


BALANCING  SYSTEM. 


[Book  I. 


tage,  not  above  the  aim  of  any  age.  It  was  a much  higher  good 
that  international  relations  became  more  extended  and  refined : 
international  morality  was  professed,  and  to  a certain  degree  fos- 
tered ; wild  tempers  and  immediate  objects  were  subdued  and 
postponed  to  ulterior  considerations  ; the  weakest  states  became 
subjects  of  common  protection,  and  the  most  out-lying  countries 
of  general  observation  ; the  way  was  opened  for  commercial  con- 
nections, and  for  mutual  intercourses  of  every  ameliorating  kind ; 
and  the  States  of  Europe  really  appeared  as  securely  settled  in 
an  advanced  political  civilization  as  any  nomade  tribes  who  have 
entered  upon  the  cultivation  of  land,  and  built  themselves  a 
town,  and  actually  experienced  that  the  blessings  of  social  organ- 
ization and  impartial  law  are  well  worth  the  individual  conces 
sions  by  which  they  are  purchased.  As  such  a community  might 
be  roused  in  the  night  by  a volcanic  eruption  which  should  over- 
throw their  city  and  scorch  up  their  fields,  so  were  the  powers  of 

Europe  struck  aghast  by  the  explosion  of  the  French 

OvGrtlirow  v ^ ^ %/  ± ^ 

Revolution.  They  had  overlooked  something ; and 
their  oversight  cost  them  nothing  short  of  the  wreck  of  their 
system : just  as  the  new  settlers  had  omitted  to  look  into  the 
quality  of  the  ground  on  which  they  were  establishing  themselves, 
and  had  no  conception  of  the  forces  that  might  be  acting  under 
their  feet.  The  something  that  the  Monarchs  and  Statesmen  of 
Europe  left  out  of  their  calculations  was  that  which  will  make 
the  then  incoming  period  conspicuous  forever  in  the  history  of 
the  world,  and  which  made  the  best  wisdom  of  courts  and  cabi- 
nets a painstaking  and  conscientious  foolishness.  The  something 
that  was  overlooked  was,  that  it  would  no  longer  answer  to  re- 
gard States  only  as  units ; that  the  time  had  come  for  multitudi- 
nous Peoples  to  be  considered  too. 

A new  unit  had  been  introduced  into  the  association  by  those 

Russia  never-sleeping  ushers,  the  centuries.  Russia  had  de- 
sired to  become  a European  power  — a member  of  the 
confederation  of  European  sovereigns.  She  need  not  have  done 
so.  She  would  have  been  very  safe,  for  any  length  of  time  — 
invulnerable  in  her  mantle  of  snows  — unapproachable  through 
her  Lifeguards  — the  whole  circle  of  storms.  She  might  have 
wrought  her  despotic  will  forever  in  the  wide  world  of  her  own 
territories,  if  she  had  kept  her  face  to  the  East.  But  it  so  hap- 
pened that  she  turned  westwards  ; and  that  first  glance  west- 
wards may  hereafter  prove  to  have  been  the  most  tremendous 
event  in  human  history.  The  transference  of  the  seat  of  Rus- 
sian empire  from  Moscow  to  the  coast  of  the  Baltic  is  a strik- 
ing picture  to  us : but  if  it  should  be  found  hereafter  that 
through  Russia  will  have  come  that  War  of  Opinion  in  Europe 
by  which  Oriental  Despotism  is  finally  to  measure  its  force  against 


Chap.  I.] 


RUSSIA.  — AUSTRIA. 


13 


the  Western  principle  of  Self-government  by  Representation,  the 
minutest  proceedings  of  Peter  and  Catherine  in  Russia  will  be- 
come as  interesting  as  any  incidents  in  the  lives  of  Greek  or 
Roman  heroes.  Generations  yet  unborn  will  watch  wiih  eager 
eyes  the  pulling  down  of  Finnish  huts  in  the  marshes,  to  make 
way  for  palaces  of  stone  ; and  the  last  waving  of  the  bulrushes 
and  reeds,  where  trim  gardens  were  henceforth  to  be  ; and  the 
first  dimple  in  the  surface  of  stagnant  lakes,  when  the  canals 
were  ready  to  drain  them  away ; and  the  placing  of  block  upon 
block,  as  the  granite  embankments  rose  along  the  Neva,  raising 
it  from  a waste  of  fetid  waters  into  a metropolitan  river.  This 
river  may  turn  out  to  be  our  modern  Rubicon ; and  the  stroke 
of  Peter’s  hammer  on  the  ship-side  at  Saardam  may  send  a 
louder  echo  through  future  generations  than  to  the  ear  of  our 
own  time.  This  great  empire,  seeking  admission  among  the 
European  states,  at  first  alarmed  them  ; and  the  audacious  and 
aspiring  cast  of  mind  of  Peter  and  Catherine  justified  such  ap- 
prehension for  the  time.  But  it  soon  appeared  that  their  effi- 
ciency beyond  their  own  territory  bore  no  proportion  to  their 
ambition,  and  that  they  were  not  likely  to  prove  themselves  po- 
tentates except  within  their  own  boundary. 

The  sovereigns  of  Russia  would  have  said,  and  often  did  say, 
that  they  were  considering  their  people  during  the  whole  of  their 
reigns.  It  is  true  that'  they  encouraged  industry  and  commerce, 
and  instituted  prodigious  works  of  improvement.  But  this  was 
not  the  consideration  of  the  Peoples  of  Europe  which  the  prog- 
ress of  time  was  rendering  necessary,  and  for  want  of  which  the 
whole  system  broke  up.  It  was  for  the  glory  of  the  State  and 
country,  in  consideration  of  the  unit  and  not  of  the  aggregate, 
that  the  great  works  of  Peter  and  Catherine  were  done.  They 
were  done  at  the  expense  of  justice  and  kindness  to  individuals. 
They  were  done  with  ignorant  and  fatal  precipitation.  They 
were  done  in  an  impatient  and  boastful  spirit ; and  the  people 
felt  no  gratitude  where  they  were  aware  of  no  benefit.  In  as 
far  as  they  shared  the  vanity  of  their  sovere  gn,  they  boasted  and 
exulted  in  the  sovereign’s  glory ; but  there  was  nothing  done  or 
doing  for  ihe  Russian  people  which  could  render  them  of  any  use 
in  the  day  of  European  convulsion. 

The  same  may  be  said  in  regard  to  the  great  and  venerable 
empire  of  Austria.  There  was  nothing  on  which  the 
Emperor  Joseph  prided  himself  so  much  as  on  his  re-  us  na‘ 
forms.  Yet,  they  were  so  done  — with  so  much  self-will  and 
personal  regards  — that  they  exasperated  those  whom  he  pro- 
fessed to  benefit.  One  of  his  reforms  lost  him  the  Belgian  prov- 
inces of  the  empire ; and  another  alienated  the  affections  of 
Hungary.  Thus,  while  Austria  in  her  reduced  state  was  looked 


14 


PRUSSIA.  — ENGLAND. 


[Book  L 


upon  as  an  unexceptionable  unit  in  the  Balancing  System,  there 
was  nothing  in  the  condition  of  her  people  which  could  for  a mo- 
ment retard,  or  in  any  degree  modify,  the  explosion  which  over- 
threw the  arrangement. 

Austria  lias  been  mentioned  as  in  a reduced  condition.  She 
was  reduced,  not  only  by  actual  loss  of  dependencies,  but,  yet 
more,  in  regard  to  continental  influence.  There  could  have  been 
no  balance  in  Europe  if  Austria  had  retained,  with  all  her  vast 
territories,  an  undisputed  supremacy  of  influence.  Prussia  was 
aggrandized,  up  to  the  point  of  rivalship.  The  partition  of  Po- 
land, in  1772,  seems  to  have  been  acquiesced  in  more  easily  than 
it  might  have  been,  by  other  powers,  on  account  of  the  strength  it 
Pru  sia  gave  t0  Prussia.  Prussia  had  indeed  become  a notable 

r * unit  in  the  European  system  : but  we  have  the  Great 

Frederick’s  own  report  of  the  state  of  his  country  and  people 
a dozen  years  before  the  outbreak  of  the  French  Revolution. 
“ The  nobility  was  exhausted,”  he  says,  in  the  History  he  wrote 
of  his  own  time,  “ the  Commons  ruined,  numbers  of  villages 
were  burnt,  and  towns  impoverished.  Civil  order  was  lost  in 
a total  anarchy  : in  a word,  the  desolation  was  universal.”  He 
lent  money  to  the  towns,  settled  destitute  people  in  the  wastes, 
drained  marshes,  patronized  manufactures,  and,  best  of  all,  eman- 
cipated the  peasants  from  hereditary  servitude.  Yet,  his  people 
were  not  happy ; nor  did  they  love  him.  His  military  system 
was  so  severe  that  his  soldiers  hanged  themselves  in  their  misery ; 
and  the  whole  country  groaned  under  the  burden  of  a standing 
army  of  200,000  men.  The  appearance  of  activity  and  an 
improved  financial  condition  throughout  the  north  of  Germany 
deceived  observers  who  regarded  States  only  as  units  : but  it  is 
now  well  known  that  under  all  the  arrangements,  and  amidst  all 
the  enterprises  of  Frederick  of  Prussia  there  was  no  genuine 
civil  liberty  — nothing  that  could  keep  the  weight  of  the  people 
on  the  same  side  of  the  balance  with  the  kings. 

As  for  the  two  leading  States  of  Europe,  France  and  England, 
their  destiny  in  the  moment  of  convulsion  had  been  fixed  long 
before  — as  all  destiny  is  — and  with  more  clearness  than  is 
common  in  political  affairs.  The  English  revolution 
England.  a cen£liry  Before  had  secured  a better  condition  for 
the  British  nation,  in  regard  to  civil  liberty,  than  was  enjoyed  by 
any  other  people  in  Europe  ; and  the  transient  oppressions  exer- 
cised or  attempted  by  panic-stricken  or  one-sided  statesmen  under 
the  alarm  of  convulsion  were  of  small  account  in  comparison 
with  the  securities  for  constitutional  freedom  in  the  long  run. 
No  discontent  of  the  British  people  certainly  contributed  to  the 
European  explosion  which  destroyed  the  Balance  of  Power. 
The  insular  position  of  England  rendered  her  circumstances  so 


Chap.  I.J 


FRANCE.  — STANDING  ARMIES. 


15 


far  different  from  those  of  other  States  as  that  she  could  never 
be  suspected  of  aims  of  continental  conquest.  The  imputations 
cast  on  her  by  her  great  rival  were  of  arrogance  in  overbearing 
other  people’s  will  and  affairs ; insatiable  rapacity  about  annex- 
ing islands  and  distant  coasts  to  her  dominions ; and  a shopkeep- 
ing ambition  to  monopolize  the  commerce,  and  command  the  in- 
dustry, of  the  world.  This  was  another  way  of  saying  that  her 
function  was  to  be  mistress  of  the  seas ; as  her  great  rival  was, 
beyond  question,  the  most  formidable  warlike  power  on  the  con- 
tinental battle-field  of  ambition.  As  for  France,  she 
was,  before  the  breaking  out  of  the  Revolution,  very 
strong  ; and  she  was  spoken  of  as  stronger  than  she  was.  Her 
population  was  above  25,000,000  ; but  it  was  unhappy.  Her 
authority  and  dominion  over  her  neighbors  were  very  imposing ; 
but  there  was  discontent  beneath  ; and,  when  the  conquests  of 
the  Revolution  were  made,  and  France  claimed  to  be  the  ruling 
power  from  the  Texel  to  the  Adriatic,  she  was  in  fact  weakened 
by  her  new  conquests,  which  were  no  more  really  French  than 
they  had  been  before.  Her  great  standing  armies,  by  standing 
which  she  had  been  distinguished  since  Louis  XIV.  armies* 
augmented  them  to  It  prodigious  extent,  were  a cause  of  weakness 
in  one  direction,  while  they  were  an  element  of  vast  strength  in 
another.  The  institution  of  standing  armies  was  a feature  of  an 
advanced  social  condition  at  the  outset.  It  showed  that  the  time 
had  come  for  that  division  of  industry  under  which  the  large 
majority  of  the  inhabitants  of  a country  pursued  the  business  of 
their  lives,  contributing  from  the  fruits  of  their  labor  to  maintain 
a set  of  men  to  do  the  necessary  fighting.  The  excitement  and 
the  horror  of  war  were  incalculably  lessened  by  this  arrange- 
ment, and  the  interests  of  peace  were,  in  the  first  instance, 
remarkably  promoted,  by  the  tranquillity  in  which  the  greater 
part  of  the  population  and  their  employments  were  left.  But 
then,  this  institution  of  standing  armies  became  so  oppressive  as 
to  be  a main  cause  of  revolutionary  action  in  France  and  other 
countries.  When  Louis  XIV.  increased  his  forces,  so  as  to 
exhibit  to  Europe  the  new  spectacle  of  a standing  army,  at  all 
times  adequate  to  all  contingencies,  his  neighbors  began  to  muster 
armies  which  might  keep  his  in  check ; and  thus  the  practice 
of  expanding  the  military  element  went  on  through  Europe,  till 
Prussia,  under  the  Great  Frederick,  had  a peace-establishment  of 
200,000  men,  and  France,  under  the  last  Bourbons,  of  500,000 
men.  The  resident  inhabitants  felt  this  force  to  be  at  once  a 
severe  burden  in  point  of  cost,  and  an  irksome  restraint ; and 
they  revolted  against  this,  among  other  grievances.  Thus,  the 
machinery  which  was  considered  a means  and  proof  of  strength, 
and  which  was  said  to  be  provided  for  the  maintenance  of  the 


16 


MINOR  EUROPEAN  POWERS. 


[Book  I. 


Balancing  System,  — for  the  repression  of  overgrown  power  in 
one  direction,  and  the  support  of  oppressed  weakness  in  another, 
— proved  so  heavy  as  to  become  in  itself  destructive  of  that 
which  it  assumed  to  preserve.  While  France  was  confident  at 
home,  and  dreaded  abroad,  on  account  of  her  military  preponder- 
ance, she  was  on  the  point  of  being  put  to  her  last  shifts  to  pre- 
serve her  place  in  Europe  at  all. 

It  may  be  noted,  in  contemplating  the  position  of  the  two  great 
rival  States,  that  England  was  more  likely  to  find  favor  in  the 
eyes  of  other  continental  powers  than  France,  since  her  kind  of 
supremacy  involved  little  danger  to  her  neighbors.  F ranee,  with 
her  vast  military  resources,  was  a dangerous  neighbor.  The 
naval  power  of  England  might  vex  and  harass  the  States,  and 
cripple  their  commercial  resources ; but  it  could  not  keep  them 
always  in  peril  of  their  lives.  In  the  midst,  therefore,  of  a gen- 
eral dislike  of  her  “ arrogance,”  England  was  more  trusted  and 
less  feared  than  France,  among  the  company  of  European  States. 

As  for  the  smaller  powers  — Holland  was  gained  over  from 
Minor  Euro-  the  French  to  the  English  alliance,  by  the  honest  and 
pean  Powers.  skilful  management  of  Lord  Malmesbury,  just  before 
the  breaking  out  of  the  French  Revolution.  It  was  of  little  con- 
sequence what  Spain  did.  Spain  was  too  essentially  feeble  to 
affect  much  the  destinies  of  other  States  ; but  her  natural  and 
political  tendencies  were  to  alliance  with  France.  Portugal  was 
feeble  too : and  she  and  Spain  were  always  prone  to  quarrel ; 
and  Portugal  was  our  ally.  Turkey  was  rescued  from  absorp- 
tion by  Russia  just  before  the  death  of  Catherine  ; and  it  could 
hardly  now  be  called  a power  at  all.  Italy,  also,  was  soon 
proved  to  be  at  the  disposal  of  the  greater  potentates,  having 
small  inherent  force.  Sweden  and  Norway  were  not  likely  to 
give  any  trouble  spontaneously ; nor  did  they  seem  in  the  way  to 
require  any  especial  protection. 

The  Balancing  System  was  not  founded  on  treaties,  or  any 
sort  of  express  compact.  It  was  a product  of  Time,  — a neces- 
sary stage  of  civilization,  as  we  have  said ; and  the  natural  force 
by  which  States  united  to  keep  the  strongest  in  check,  and  up- 
hold the  weakest,  appears  indeed  to  have  manifested  itself,  in  its 
own  season,  as  the  counteracting  and  compensating  forces  of 
nature  do,  whether  men  call  for  them  or  not.  In  such  cases, 
there  is  usually  something  involved  which  men  overlook  ; and  in 
this  case  of  the  Balancing  System  there  were  elements  of  which 
kings  and  statesmen  were  wholly  unaware.  They  were  count- 
ing and  placing  their  units,  supposing  all  safe,  not  seeing  that 
these  units  were  aggregates,  with  a self-moving  power. 

Kings  were  no  longer  what  they  had  been.  They  must  have 
Ministers  who  were  not  their  own  tools,  but  who  bore  some  rela- 


Chap.  I.] 


BONAPARTE  FIRST  CONSUL. 


17 


tion  to  the  people  at  large.  In  England,  this  had  so  long  been  a 
settled  matter  that  nobody  thought  of  questioning  it.  In  France, 
the  Bourbons  never  could  clearly  see  it.  They  never  saw,  that, 
if  it  once  became  a matter  of  contest  whether  a European  mon- 
arch and  his  tools  should  rule  with  or  without  a regard  to  the 
interests  and  needs  of  the  people,  the  matter  could  end  no  other- 
wise than  in  the  defeat  of  the  despot.  So  the  Rour-  prench  Revo- 
bons  were  driven  forth  from  France,  as  the  Stuarts  lution- 
had  been  from  England ; and  all  the  world  waited  with  intense 
anxiety  to  see  what  would  become  of  France  in  regard  to  the 
Balancing  System. 

The  matter  was  made  clear,  after  some  years  of  struggle,  by 
a Corsican  youth,  who  was  an  engineer,  without  pros-  Napoleon 
pect,  and  without  fortune,  when  the  French  Revolu-  BonaParte- 
tion  broke  out.  By  his  military  talents,  and  his  genius  for  com- 
mand, he  had  risen,  before  the  opening  of  our  century,  to  such  a 
point  of  eminence,  that  on  his  life  seemed  to  hang  the  destinies 
of  the  world.  In  1796  he  crossed  the  Alps,  leading  the  armies 
of  France  to  the  conquest  of  Italy,  whence  he  compelled  the 
Pope  and  the  other  Italian  sovereigns  to  send  the  treasures  of  art 
to  Paris.  He  there  defeated  five  Austrian  armies  ; and  showed 
his  quality  at  home  by  wresting  from  the  French  Directory,  and 
concentrating  in  himself,  the  entire  control  of  the  army.  In  1798, 
he  conquered  Egypt,  threatened  India,  and,  in  1799,  overran 
Syria,  where,  however,  he  was  repulsed  at  Acre  by  the  British 
under  Sir  Sidney  Smith,  and  driven  back  upon  Egypt.  Return- 
ing to  Paris,  he  carried  all  before  him  ; and  the  year  closed  on  his 
appointment  as  First  Consul  for  life.  He  was  invested  Made  First 
with  supreme  executive  authority.  The  first  mention  Consul, 
of  his  name  in  the  published  journal  of  the  great  British  diplo- 
matist, Lord  Malmesbury,  occurs  in  November,  179 6.1  “ Well 

brought  up  at  L’Ecole  Militaire  — clever,  desperate  Jacobin, 
even  Terrorist  — his  wife  Madame  Beauharnois,  whose  husband 
was  beheaded  — she  now  called  Notre  Dame  des  Victoires”  On 
the  23d  of  August,  1799,  he  told  his  army  in  Egypt,  by  a short 
letter,  “ In  consequence  of  news  from  Europe,  I have  determined 
immediately  to  return  to  France.”  “Early  in  October,”  says  our 
matter-of-fact  Annual  Register,2  “ Bonaparte  landed  suddenly  at 
Frejus,  in  Provence,  like  a spirit  from  another  world.”  Before 
the  last  sun  of  the  century  had  set,  he  was  the  greatest  potentate 
of  the  world.  The  wearied  and  worn  people  of  France  rested  on 
him  as  the  power  which  was  to  give  them  repose ; and  the  mag- 
nificent succession  of  his  first  acts  seemed  to  justify  their  confi- 
dence. Social  order  was  restored  and  maintained ; the  public 
exercise  of  religion  was  reestablished ; and,  by  treaty  with  the 

1 Lord  Malmesbury’s  Diaries,  iii.  293.  2 Annual  Register,  1799,  p.  316. 

VOT..  I.  2 


18 


PROPOSAL  OP  PEACE. 


[Book  L 


Pope,  France  was  released  from  the  control  of  the  Holy  See  in 
spiritual  matters.  Parties  were  repressed,  and  their  leaders  were 
made  subservient  to  the  new  ruler.  Office  and  influence  were 
freely  thrown  open  to  merit ; and  the  institution  of  the  Legion 
of  Honor  invited  civic  desert  from  every  rank  and  condition  of 
life.  The  people  were  rid  of  the  race  of  despotic  and  incapable 
Bourbon  sovereigns ; and  in  their  joy  at  having  secured  a ruler 
w ho  was  capable,  and  who  professed  popular  objects,  they  were 
not  too  careful  to  inquire  whether  he  might  not  prove  a despot  in 
another  way. 

On  the  25th  of  December,  1799,  Napoleon  addressed  the  fob 
Proposal  of  lowing  letter  to  the  King  of  Great  Britain.1  “ Called 
peace.  by  the  wislies  of  the  French  nation  to  occupy  the  first 
magistracy  of  the  Republic,  I think  it  proper,  on  entering  into 
office,  to  make  a direct  communication  of  it  to  your  Majesty.  — 
The  war  which,  for  eight  years,  has  ravaged  the  four  quarters  of 
the  world  — must  it  be  eternal  ? Are  there  no  means  of  coming 
to  an  understanding  ? How  can  the  two  most  enlightened  nations 
of  Europe,  powerful  and  strong  beyond  what  their  independence 
requires,  sacrifice  to  ideas  of  vain  greatness  the  benefits  of  com- 
merce, internal  prosperity,  and  the  happiness  of  families  ? How 
is  it  that  they  do  not  feel  that  peace  is  of  the  first  necessity,  as 
well  as  the  truest  glory  ? These  sentiments  cannot  be  foreign  to 
the  heart  of  your  Majesty,  who  reigns  over  a free  nation,  and 
with  the  sole  view  of  making  it  happy.  — - Your  Majesty  will  see 
in  this  overture  only  my  sincere  desire  to  contribute  efficaciously, 
for  the  second  time,  to  a general  pacification  by  a step,  speedy, 
entirely  of  confidence,  and  disengaged  from  those  forms  which, 
however  necessary  to  disguise  the  dependence  of  weak  states, 
prove,  in  the  case  of  strong  ones,  only  a mutual  desire  to  deceive. 
France  and  England,  by  the  abuse  of  their  strength,  may  still,  to 
the  injury  of  all  nations,  long  retard  the  period  of  their  own 
exhaustion : but  I will  venture  to  say  that  the  fate  of  all  civil- 
ized nations  depends  on  the  termination  of  a war  which  involves 
the  whole  world.” 

Such  was  the  invitation  to  England  to  be  at  peace.  But  one 
of  the  conditions  under  which  the  European  powers  had  entered 
into  an  alliance,  and  carried  on  war  against  France  since  the  dep- 
osition of  her  princes,  was  that  no  one  of  them  should  make  a 
separate  peace.  The  answer  from  hmgland  was  not,  therefore,  a 
matter  of  choice  ; and  this  Napoleon  could  not  but  have  known. 
The  greater  his  victories,  and  the  more  eminent  his  civic  author- 
ity, the  more  necessary  was  it  to  the  balance  of  power,  and  the 
security  of  the  European  nations,  that  all  other  countries  should 
band  themselves  together  against  France,  till  unquestionable 
1 Annual  Register,  1800,  p.  73. 


Chap.  I.] 


NEGOTIATION  DECLINED. 


19 


guaranties  should  be  obtained  that  France  would  be  quiet,  and 
keep  at  home.  The  King  of  England,  therefore,  de-  D u d 
clined  negotiation.1  In  his  reply,  he  said  more  than 
any  statesman  would  now  approve  to  enforce  the  restoration  of 
the  Bourbons ; but  he  declared  distinctly  that  this  should  not  be 
made  an  essential  condition,  as  no  foreign  power  could  claim  to 
dictate  to  any  nation  its  mode  of  government.  The  essential  con- 
dition would  be,  (whenever  the  time  should  arrive,)  that  France 
should  give  such  evidences  of  stability  at  home  and  harmlessness 
abroad  as  might  justify  her  neighbors  in  laying  down  their  arms. 
The  sovereign  of  Great  Britain  had  the  highest  right  to  use  a lofty 
tone  with  the  new  ruler  of  France,  as  the  naval  power  of  England 
had  proved  the  only  counterpoise  to  the  military  preeminence  of 
France.  While  Napoleon  had  become  lord  of  the  Continent, 
England  remained  mistress  of  the  seas.  By  various  successes  in 
the  earlier  years  of  the  war,  by  the  victory  off  Cape  St.  Vincent  in 
February,  1797,  and  especially  by  the  battle  of  the  Nile,  France 
had  been  kept  in  check,  and  more  had  been  done  for  the  main- 
tenance of  the  common  cause  against  her  than  by  the  action  of 
all  other  European  powers  together.  The  battle  of  the  Nile, 
fought  on  the  1st  of  August,  1798,  yielded  the  greatest  victory 
then  known  in  naval  warfare.  To  destroy  the  French  fleet  in 
the  Mediterranean  had  long  been  the  first  wish  of  Nelson’s  heart. 
He  did  it  now.  Only  a single  frigate  of  the  whole  armament 
returned  to  France  ; and  Napoleon  was  left  in  Egypt,  shut  out 
from  all  communication  with  home.  It  was  while  the  remem- 
brance of  this  great  defeat,  in  the  midst  of  so  many  successes, 
was  fresh  in  his  mind,  that  Napoleon  addressed  to  George  III. 
his  invitation  to  peace : and  it  was  while  England  was  yet 
cheered  with  her  victory,  and  making  much  of  her  great  hero, 
that  George  III.  sent  his  haughty  reply. 

The  war,  as  has  been  said,  had  lasted  eight  years.  In  1792, 
the  French  Assembly  had  declared  war  against  Austria,  on  the 
ground  of  her  harboring  French  rebels,  contrary  to  the  faith  of 
treaties.  The  poor  king,  Louis  XVI.,  was  then  still  living  ; and  one 
of  the  bitter  things  he  had  to  endure  was  appearing  to  sanction  a 
declaration  of  war  against  the  friends  who  were  at  work  for  his 
rescue.  Prussia  and  the  King  of  Sardinia  presently  joined  Aus- 
tria ; but  Great  Britain  preserved  a position  of  neutrality  for  yet 
a few  months  longer.  After  the  execution  of  Louis  in  January, 
1793,  no  further  terms  were  to  be  kept  with  France,  and  in  Feb- 
ruary, England  and  Holland  were  her  proclaimed  enemies.  The 
successes  of  Napoleon  justified  his  coming  forward  to  propose 
peace,  as  soon  as  the  government  of  France  appeared  to  be  set- 
tled in  his  person  : but  his  making  the  proposition  to  England 
1 Annual  Register,  1800.  State  Papers,  204. 


20 


PEACE  ENFORCED  ABROAD. 


[Book  I. 


alone  shows  that  he  could  hardly  have  been  sincere  ; for  no  one 
of  the  great  powers  could  make  a separate  peace.  Yet  he  de- 
clared to  the  legislative  body,  at  the  close  of  their  session,  in 
March,  1800,  that  the  French  people  desired  peace,  and  their 
government  also,  and  even  more  earnestly;  but  that  the  English 
government  rejected  it.  A new  army  of  reserve  was  immediately 
formed  ; and  forth  went  the  great  soldier  to  conquer  again.  By 
Napoleon’s  the  middle  of  June  in  this  last  year  of  the  century,  he 
successes.  had  gained  the  battle  of  Marengo,  taking  from  the 
Austrians  in  one  day  all  that  they  had  regained  in  Italy  since  his 
former  warfare  there.  His  forces  under  Moreau  in  Germany 
were  driving  back  the  Austrians  at  every  point;  and  by  the  mid- 
dle of  July,  the  Emperor  was  helpless,  — many  of  his  strongholds 
in  the  hands  of  the  French,  and  the  road  to  Vienna  open  to  them. 
He  would  have  made  peace,  but  could  not  do  it  without  the  con- 
sent of  the  other  powers  ; and  Great  Britain  objected  to  some  of 
the  terms  imposed  by  France.  Before  the  end  of  the  year,  how- 
ever, the  successes  of  Moreau  in  Germany,  and  of  the  French 
wherever  they  appeared,  were  such  as  to  precipitate  peacemak- 
ing wherever  it  could  be  had.  On  Christmas  Day,  1800,  the 
Emperor  signed  an  armistice,  by  which  he  bound  himself  to 
agree  to  a separate  peace,  his  allies  giving  their  compassionate 
consent.  It  was  clear  that  other  powers  must  follow  the  same 
Enforced  course  ; and  on  the  last  day  of  the  century,  it  was 
peace  abroad,  understood  by  British  statesmen  that  England  would 
presently  be  the  only  power  standing  out  against  this  terrific 
France  and  her  astonishing  ruler.  It  is  now  that  we  begin  to 
find  in  the  records  of  the  time,  and  in  the  correspondence  of  our 
fathers,  those  scattered  assertions  that  such  a man  could  not  be 
long-lived,  which  show  how  vast  was  his  power  over  the  imagina- 
tion in  the  early  years  of  his  conquests.  Our  fathers  were  taken 
by  surprise  by  the  manifestation  of  the  resources  of  France.  By 
changing  the  natural  course  of  her  life,  and  calling  forth  all  her 
strength  of  every  kind  for  the  maintenance  of  her  new  position 
against  the  assaults  of  the  world,  her  ruler  had  made  her  appear 
able  to  confront  the  united  opposition  of  the  world  — and  even  to 
drive  back  the  world,  and  occupy  the  homes  of  nations  wherever 
she  pleased  — except  only  in  regard  to  England.  France  was 
now  about  to  gain  territory  as  far  as  the  left  bank  of  the  Rhine 
from  Auslria;  and  Parma,  Tuscany,  and  Etruria  from  Spain; 
and  alliance  against  the  English  from  poor  helpless  Naples ; and 
peace  on  his  own  terms  with  Russia,  Bavaria,  and  Portugal. 
While  seeing  the  new  century  rise  on  this  wonderful  adventurer, 
now  the  foremost  man  of  all  the  world,  men  discerned  no  hope 
but  in  the  probable  shortness  of  his  life.  Such  energy  as  his, 
they  said,  always  wore  out  the  frame : he  exposed  himself  in  so 


Chap.  I.] 


ALARM  IN  ENGLAND. 


21 


many  battle-fields,  that  he  would  be  taken  off  that  way : he  had 
also  been  nearly  murdered,  in  the  last  month  of  the  century,  by 
a conspiracy  in  Paris ; and  between  the  discontented  and  the 
mad,  he  would  never  be  safe.  And  then,  such  a man  leaves 
no  successor.  He  was  himself  the  greatness  and  the  power  of 
France  ; for  he  had  tranquillized  her.  She  would  easily  be 
conquered  when  his  day  was  over.  Such  were  the  consolations 
of  the  more  hopeful.  As  for  the  timid,  they  had  no  hope,  be- 
yond that  of  keeping  quiet  in  their  own  island,  letting  destruction 
rage  abroad.  When,  presently,  it  appeared  doubtful  whether 
they  would  be  allowed  to  remain  quiet  in  their  own  island,  the 
consternation  was  such  as  Englishmen  and  their  families  had 
little  dreamed  of  ever  experiencing  in  so  late  an  age  of  the  world. 
In  their  school-days  they  had  imagined  what  it  must  be  to  the 
people  to  see  the  approach  of  the  Danes,  or  of  the  Normans,  and 
to  have  their  beloved  country  overrun  by  the  foe ; but  it  had 
never  occurred  to  them  that  such  a thing  could  happen  to  them- 
selves. When,  however,  this  Bonaparte  had  reduced  to  peace 
on  his  own  terms  all  his  foes  abroad,  it  was  thought  and  whis- 
pered that  he  would  turn  his  face  our  way,  and  try  the  power  of 
his  presence  in  England,  as  in  the  countries  which  he  had  laid 
low.  He  had  used  his  influence  abroad  to  injure  Great  Britain 
by  embroiling  her  with  the  northern  powers,  Russia,  Sweden,  and 
Denmark.  He  wrought  upon  the  Emperor  Paul’s  ambition  to 
possess  Malta,  and  on  the  jealousy  and  fears  of  the  three  Powers 
about  the  commercial  and  naval  supremacy  of  England,  till  he  suc- 
ceeded in  making  a rupture,  most  alarming  to  the  government 
and  people  of  Great  Britain  at  such  a juncture.  During  the  last 
months  of  the  century,  the  three  great  Baltic  Powers  were  bound 
in  a confederacy  against  England  : the  Danes  were  evading  naval 
search,  and  supplying  arms  and  stores  to  French  vessels;  Paul 
was  burning  British  vessels  in  Russian  ports,  and  sending  the 
crews  into  the  interior  as  prisoners  ; and  it  was  clear  that  a 
northern  war  was  impending  at  the  same  moment  that  England 
was  left  alone  in  her  resistance  to  France.  We  shall  have  to  see 
what  was  thought  and  said  and  done  by  the  brave  and  by  the 
timid,  by  the  wise  and  by  the  incapable,  in  this  extraordinary 
exigence.  Meantime,  we  must  glance  at  the  operation  of  these 
exterior  relations  on  the  interior  condition  of  Great  Britain,  at 
the  close  of  the  century. 

Amidst  the  convulsions  which  broke  up  the  Balancing  System 
on  the  Continent,  the  British  nation  seemed  exempted  Condition  of 
from  dangers  common  to  all  other  peoples  — secured  El ;sland- 
by  its  free  constitution.  It  was  an  edifying  sight,  just  before 
the  French  Revolution,  to  see  the  Prime  Minister 
of  England,  Mr.  Pitt,  bringing  forward  the  subject  of  1 iam 


22 


PITT’S  OPPRESSIVE  POLICY. 


[Book  I. 


parliamentary  reform,  — proposing  to  transfer  the  franchise  from 
decayed  boroughs  to  London,  and  to  counties  which  had  become 
populous ; -and  to  provide  for  the  future  disfranchisement  of 
boroughs,  as  they  should  sink  in  the  scale  of  proportion,  to  grow- 
ing manufacturing  towns.  Thus  liberal  and  popular  were  the 
ideas  of  the  great  statesman  up  to  1785.  But  he  took  alarm  at 
the  French  Revolution  ; and,  like  other  directors  of  public  affairs 
in  Europe,  looked  upon  states  as  units,  and  turned  away  from  the 
interests  of  the  aggregate  peoples.  He  became  one  of  the  despots 
of  Europe  — in  point  of  despotism,  one  of  the  foremost. 
Hls  pollL}‘  He  might  have  been  justified  for  entering  into  the  con- 
tinental war,  diverse  as  were  the  opinions  of  the  time  as  to  the 
necessity  of  doing  so.  He  might  have  been  forgiven  the  bad  con- 
duct of  the  war,  by  which  England  was  drained  of  money  that 
went  to  subsidize  the  weaker  continental  powers.  Terrible  as 
were  the  burdens  of  taxation  and  the  derangements  of  commercial 
affairs  at  the  time,  and  fearful  as  is  the  load  of  debt  which  he  de- 
posited in  the  future  by  a method  of  warfare  which  brought  no 
glory  and  did  no  effectual  service,  he  might  have  been  forgiven ; 
~ for  the  times  were  such  as  wellnigh  to  set  men’s  judgments  at 
defiance.  But  that  for  which  he  cannot  be  forgiven  is  his  over- 
ruling of  the  civil  liberties  of  Englishmen.  All  who  doubted  the 
wisdom  of  the  war  were  regarded  by  Mr.  Pitt’s  government  as 
seditious  persons ; and  imputed  sedition  was  shunted 
down  with  a ferocity  to  the  last  degree  unwise'in  such 
times.  Clergymen  and  other  educated  men  in  Scotland  were 
doomed  to  transportation  for  speeches  and  acts  of  political  license, 
such  as  always  grows  under  persecution  ; and  attempts  were  made 
to  bring  others  to  the  gibbet  in  England  for  constructive  treason : 
attempts  which,  if  not  baffled  by  the  sense  and  courage  of  the 
juries,  would  have  been  ground  enough,  in  such  a crisis,  for  such 
a revolution  in  England  as  would  secure  to  men  their  constitu- 
tional rights.  There  was  a suspension  of  the  Habeas  Corpus,  a 
stringent  Alien  Bill;  and  finally,  in  1796,  the  Seditious  Meetings’ 
Bill,  which  was  so  oppressive  and  unconstitutional  that  Mr.  F ox 
and  the  leaders  of  the  Opposition  seceded  from  the  House  of 
Commons  when  the  Bill  was  committed.  The  fiercer  the  severity 
un  the  part  of  the  government,  the  stronger  grew  the  resentment 
of  the  people  ; and  “ the  spread  of  revolutionary  principles  ” — 
the  thing  dreaded  — was  stimulated  by  tyranny  at  home  far  more 
than  it  could  ever  have  been  by  mere  example  from  abroad ; ex- 
ample which  a little  time  was  sure  to  convert  into  warning.  In 
Financial  the  midst  of  all  this  turmoil,  the  Bank  found  her 
difficulty,  resources  exhausted.  By  1797,  the  country  was  so 
drained  of  specie  that  the  Bank  could  not  go  on,  unless  saved  by 
some  immediate  intervention  of  government.  So  the  Restriction 


Chap.  I.] 


PEACE  ANXIOUSLY  WISHED. 


23 


Act  was  brought  in,  by  which  the  Bank  was  relieved  from  the 
obligation  to  pay  cash  for  notes.  The  government  was  actually 
alarmed  for  the  provisioning  of  London,  and  for  the  means  of 
paying  the  army  and  navy.  In  February  and  March,  various 
anonymous  letters  from  sailors  had  been  received  by  the  authori- 
ties, complaining  of  insufficient  pay  during  years  of  high  prices, 
and  of  other  grievances  ; and  in  April,  when  the  Channel  fleet 
at  Spithead  was  ordered  to  proceed  to  sea,  ship  after  ^ 
ship  refused  to  weigh  anchor ; and  in  a few  weeks  mu-  * 11 

tiny  seemed  to  have  deprived  Great  Britain  of  her  naval  defence 
— her  best  reliance.  From  port  to  port  the  mutiny  spread,  and 
at  the  Nore  it  seemed  for  a time  unmanageable.  The  ministry 
advised  parliament  to  grant  the  demands  of  the  sailors ; and 
money  was  voted  accordingly ; only  the  ringleader  and  a few  del- 
egates of  the  mutineers  being  executed,  to  keep  up  Irish  rebel- 
some  appearance  of  authority.  In  the  next  year  hap-  lion- 
pened  the  terrible  Irish  rebellion.  Such  was  the  condition  of  af- 
fairs in  the  hands  of  the  minister  who  distrusted  the  people  the 
more  as  his  difficulties  increased  ; and  became  the  more  severe 
with  the  growth  of  his  difficulties  and  his  distrust ; while  Napo- 
leon was  again  abroad  on  his  victorious  course ; and  on  the  Con- 
tinent all  seemed  lost. 

The  time  was  now  come  for  this  continental  adversity  to  tran- 
quillize: England.  All  other  powers  were  prostrate  ; and  the 
people,  as  well  as  the  government  of  England,  was  now  engrossed 
by  apprehension.  The  pressure  from  without  was  becoming  seri- 
ous enough  to  still  all  within.  By  the  opening  of  the  century,  the 
great  minister  and  the  people  seem,  by  a sort  of  mutual  consent, 
to  have  suspended  hostilities  in  awe  or  hatred  of  the  common  foe. 
Mr.  Pitt  appears  to  have  lost  some  of  his  constant  dread  of  “ the 
spread  of  revolutionary  principles  ” in  view  of  the  stronger  peril 
to  the  French  themselves,  as  well  as  their  neighbors,  of  the 
establishment  of  a military  despotism  : and  the  most  liberal  of 
English  politicians  were  becoming  almost  as  anxious  for  peace  as 
the  overtaxed  and  suffering  people ; seeing  that  nothing  more  was 
now  to  be  done  on  the  Continent,  and  that  it  was  not  perfectly 
certain  that  our  national  existence  would  be  preserved  — 01  un- 
suspended (for  no  one  supposed  that  Great  Britain  could  remain 
permanently  a province  of  France)  — if  we  defied  the  conqueror 
to  decisive  war. 

For  obvious  reasons,  one  point  of  the  question  could  not  be 
publicly  discussed.  There  were  many  who  seriously  doubted 
whether  we  could  support  a war.  Dark  and  dreary  was  the  state 
of  affairs  ; so  dark  and  dreary  that  it  was  to  be  hoped  Napoleon 
would  not  hear  how  bad  it  was.  The  King  con’d  not  The  royal 
be  depended  on  for  any  kind  of  assistance.  He  was  famil?- 


24 


CONDITION  OF  THE  PEOPLE. 


[Book  L 


purely  an  obstruction,  except  to  a few  who  wheedled  him,  in 
order  to  use  his  name  in  furtherance  of  their  own  objects.  He 
had  been  insane,  and  might  at  any  moment  be  so  again.  It  is 
difficult  now,  in  reading  his  letters,  and  records  of  his  conversa- 
tion and  behavior,  to  say  whether  he  was  ever  quite  rational, 
even  up  to  the  level  of  his  originally  small  capacity.  He  was 
harsh  and  cruel  to  his  eldest  son,  while  ludicrously  sentimental 
with  those  of  his  ministers  who  gratified  him  most  by  that  mix- 
ture of  flattery  and  pious  profession  which  suited  his  taste.  He 
was  obstinate  and  prejudiced,  weak  and  ignorant,  before  his  ill- 
ness ; and  he  was,  naturally,  neither  wiser  nor  more  flexible  now. 
Tt  was  a misfortune  to  have  to  manage  him  : it  would  have  been 
folly  to  look  to  him  for  any  sort  of  aid.  — The  Prince  of  Wales 
offered  no  resource  of  hope.  He  was  at  variance  with  his  par- 
ent*, parted  from  his  wife,  deep  in  debt,  querulous  in  his  dis- 
content, and  thoroughly  provoking  in  his  methods  of  political 
opposition. 

As  for  the  Administration,  we  have  seen  what  must  have  been 
its  unpopularity.  — As  for  the  people,  we  are  able  to  form  a pretty 
accurate  notion  of  their  numbers  and  condition,  though,  strange  to 
say,  there  had  as  yet  been  no  Census.  The  first  Census  was 
Classes  of  the  taken  in  1801.  As  the  first,  it  was  not  so  well  man- 
peopie.  aged  as  it  might  have  been  ; but  it  so  far  affords  guid- 
ance as  that  we  may  venture  to  say  that  the  population  of  Eng- 
land, Wales,  and  Scotland,  including  the  soldiers  and  sailors 
serving  abroad,  was  about  eleven  millions.  The  proportion  of 
this  population  employed  in  agriculture,  in  comparison  with  that 
employed  in  manufacture  and  commerce,  was  much  greater  than 
it  is  now.  Since  1795  there  had  been  a series  of  deficient  har- 
vests ; and  that  of*  1800  was  so  bad  that  the  price  of  wheat  rose 
to  1155.  11  d.  per  quarter.  To  the  middle  classes,  employed  in 
manufacture  and  commerce,  this  was  a cruel  aggravation  of  their 
hardships,  while  taxation  was  becoming  inordinately  oppressive. 
The  misery  was  felt  also  by  the  poorest  class,  as  was  shown  by 
the  swelling  of  the  poor-rate  to  the  then  enormous  sum  of  nearly 
four  millions  per  annum,  for  the  poor  of  England  and  Wales  ; a 
sum  truly  enormous,  in  the  eye  of  all  times,  for  the  relief  of  pau- 
perism in  a population  of  9,000,000,  which  was  about  that  of 
England  and  Wales.  But  the  land-owners  were  in  a highly 
flourishing  condiiion.  With  wheat  at  1155.  11  d.  per 
an  -owners.  quarter^  £}iey  hac[  no  great  reason  to  care  for  the  defi- 
ciency in  the  harvest,  in  this  last  season  of  the  century,  and  they 
lived  in  a style  which  abundantly  asserted  their  prosperity. 
While  the  tradesman  or  manufacturer  came  in  from  his  daily 
business  depressed  and  anxious,  unable  to  extend  his 
r csmen.  marke^  on  acc0unt  of  the  war  or  its  consequences, 


Chap.  I.] 


AGRICULTURE  AND  FARMERS. 


25 


pressed  for  poor-rate,  threatened  with  an  increased  property  tax, 
worried  by  the  Excise  in  his  business,  warned  of  bad  debts  in  his 
trade,  and  with  bakers’  and  butchers’  bills  growing  more  formi- 
dable from  week  to  week,  the  farmer  was  cheerful,  and  his  land- 
lord growing  grand.  While  the  townsman  was  paying  Is.  10c?.  for 
the  quartern  loaf,  and  2s.  per  lb.  for  butter,  and  the  children  were 
told  they  must  eat  their  bread  dry ; and  there  was  a dinner  of 
shell-fish  or  other  substitute  for  meat  once  or  twice  aweek,  and 
housewives  were  trying  to  make  bread  with  potatoes,  to 

v o a ^ Farmers 

save  fiour,  — the  farmers  kept  open  house,  set  up  gigs, 
sent  their  children  to  expensive  schools,  and  upheld  Mr.  Pitt 
and  the  war,  their  king  and  country.  The  landlords  obtained 
Enclosure  bills  in  great  and  increasing  numbers  ; and  some  of 
the  more  enlightened,  looking  beyond  the  present  privilege  of  high 
prices  which  so  swelled  their  rents,  began  to  attend  to  suggestions 
for  improving  the  soil.1  It  was  in  1800  that  we  meet  with  men- 
tion of  the  first  trial  of  bone  manure.  The  farmers  laughed,  and 
declared  they  would  let  well  alone,  and  not  spend  their  money  and 
trouble  on  new  devices  which  they  did  not  need  ; but  the  philoso- 
phers were  at  work  — such  a man  as  Davy  for  one  — and  the  best 
order  of  land-owners  were  willing  to  learn  ; and  thus  provision  was 
made  for  future  agricultural  improvement,  and  some  Agricultural 
preparation  for  that  scientific  practice  of  agriculture  improvement, 
which  was  sure  to  be  rendered  necessary,  sooner  or  later,  by  the 
increasing  proportion  of  the  more  enlightened  manufacturing  to 
the  less  enlightened  agricultural  population  of  the  country.2  It 
appears  that  at  the  opening  of  the  century,  10,000  acres  of  raw, 
newly  enclosed  arable  and  pasture  land  would  support  4327  per- 
sons ; while,  thirty-five  years  later,  the  same  quantity  of  similar 
land  would  maintain  5555  : and  the  fifteen  years  that  have 
elapsed  since  the  later  date  have  witnessed  a far  more  rapid  ad- 
vance of  improvement.  It  is  a fact  worth  remembering  that  the 
first  decided  step  in  this  direction,  the  first  recorded  application 
of  bone  dust  as  an  introduction  to  the  use  of  artificial  manures, 
was  made  in  the  first  year  of  our  century,  while  the  prices  of 
agricultural  produce  were  such  as  were  then  called  “ unheard 
ol” 

In  1790,  Arkwright’s  inventions  had  been  thrown  open  to  the 
public,  by  the  setting  aside  of  his  patents.  At  that  cotton  manu- 
time,  our  exports  of  manufactured  cotton  goods  little  facture- 
exceeded  a million  and  a half.  In  1800,  they  reached  nearly  to 
five  millions  and  a half.  This  seems  a sm  ill  amount  to  us  now  ; 
but  the  rate  of  increase  during  a season  of  war  and  trouble  is 
remarkable.  The  time  for  flagging  under  the  burdens  and  im- 
pediments of  war  was  at  hand,  but  was  not  yet  foreseen  by  gov- 
1 Progress  of  the  Nation,  i.  p.  149  {note).  2 [bid.  p.  178. 


26 


MANUFACTURES  AND  OPERATIVES.  [Book  I. 


eminent.  Dr.  Cartwright’s  power-loom  had  been  invented  for 
thirteen  years;  but  it  was  not  brought  into  use  till  1801.  Even 
then,  it  was  not  for  some  years  that  the  invention  became  easy 
to  use,  and  duly  profitable  : so,  in  contemplating  (he  cotton  man- 
ufactures at  this  period,  we  must  remember,  that,  though  the  spin- 
ning was  very  perfectly  done,  the  handloom  weavers  had  the 
weaving  business  all  to  themselves.  We  have  no  records  which 
can  make  us  certain  of  the  number  of  persons  employed  in  the 
cotton  manufacture  at  the  opening  of  the  century.  What  we  do 
know  is,  that  the  mechanical  inventions  in  which  Arkwright  led 
the  way  have  added  a permanent  two  millions  to  our  population ; 
and  that  by  the  improvements  of  the  last  fifty  years,  less  than 
half  the  number  of  hands  can  deal  with  the  same  amount  of  cot- 
ton as  at  the  beginning  of  the  century.  The  supposition  has  been 
offered  that  the  number  of  cotton-spinners  in  1801  was  about 
27,000 ;*  but  this  is  little  more  than  conjecture;  and  then  we 
know  nothing  of  the  number  of  weavers.  But  of  the  condition 
of  this  part  of  our  industrial  population  we  do  know  something.1 2 

We  learn,  by  information  laid  before  a Parliamentary 
Operatives.  Qomm{^ee  in  1833,  that,  at  the  beginning  of  the  cen- 
tury, a cotton-spinner  worked  74  hours  in  a week  ; for  which  his 
clear  earnings  were  325.  6t7.  We  have  seen  what  was  then  the 
price  of  bread,  it  is  evident  at  a glance  how  inferior  was  the 
condition  of  an  operative  of  that  class  then,  in  comparison  with 
that  of  his  successors,  who  work  a shorter  time,  obtain  higher 
wages,  pay  less  for  food,  and  have  the  advantage  of  this  same 
cotton  manufacture  for  cheap  and  cleanly  clothing  for  themselves 
and  their  families. 

The  money  value  of  our  woollen  exports  in  1800  was  about 
6,000,000/. ; 3 that  is,  doubled  within  a hundred  years ; but,  as  the 
woollen  price  of  wool  had  doubled  also,  it  does  not  appear  that 
manufacture,  the  manufacture  was  on  the  increase.  The  popula- 
tion of  Bradford,  in  those  days,  was  under  30,000  ; of  Hudders- 
field, under  15,000  ; of  Leeds,  53,000.4  The  city  of  Norwich,  the 
chief  seat  of  the  bombazeen  and  camlet  manufacture,  was  in  a 
state  of  deep  depression  ; and  for  the  first  ten  years  of  the  cen- 
tury, the  population  scarcely  increased  at  all.  Yet  the  wear  of 
woollen  was  much  more  general  then  than  now,  among  the  body 
of  the  people.  Linen  fabrics  were  expensive,  and  cotton  not  yet 
cheap.  — The  linen  manufacture  was  on  the  increase  ; but  not 
g>ii  to  any  striking  degree.  — As  for  silk  attire,  there  were 

few  out  of  the  highest  classes  who  could  afford  more 
than  an  occasional  indulgence  in  it.  A silk  gown  lasted  a dozen 
years  ; and  its  purchase  was  a serious  event  to  a woman  of  the 


1 Progress  of  the  Nation,  i.  p.  229. 

Ibid.  p.  190. 


2 Ibid.  p.  230. 

* Ibid.  pp.  200,  201. 


Chap.  I.J 


THE  MIDDLE  CLASS. 


27 


middle  class.  A good  deal  of  silk  was  smuggled  into  the  country  ; 
and  that  which  was  manufactured  at  home  was  in  the  hands  of  a 
small  population,  who,  while  prizing  their  monopoly  as  their 
heart’s  blood,  were  yet  forever  oscillating  between 
high  prosperity  and  the  deepest  distress.1  Birming-  ware' 

ham  and  Sheffield  were  modest,  middle-sized  towns,  when  the 
century  opened,  — Birmingham  having  under  74,000  inhabitants, 
and  Sheffield  less  than  46,000.  The  more  languid  manufactures 
grew  under  the  protraction  of  the  war,  the  heavier  became  the 
taxation : so  that  it  requires  some  consideration  to  conceive  how 
either  capitalists  or  operatives  lived  in  such  times. 

There  was  less  expenditure  for  amusement  in  those  days. 
Travelling  was  seldom  thought  of  by  middle-class  peo-  condition  of 
pie,  except  for  purpose  of  business.  Middle-class  middle  class- 
families  in  the  provincial  towns  and  in  the  country  lived  on  for 
five  or  ten  years  together,  without  a thought  of  stirring.  The 
number  of  that  class  out  of  London  who  had  ever  seen  London 
was  very  small.  Few  who  lived  in  the  inland  counties  had  ever 
seen  the  sea.  Mountains  and  Lakes  were  read  and  talked  of 
almost  as  Rome  and  the  Mediterranean.  Little  money  was 
spent  in  travelling.  Scarcely  any  was  spent  on  books,  music, 
or  pictures.  Children  and  young  people  had  cheaper  schooling, 
and  less  of  it,  and  fewer  masters  than  now.  The  business  of 
living  was  done  at  home,  more  than  now ; especially  the  needle- 
work, to  the  serious  injury  of  female  health.  The  routine  of  liv- 
ing, in  orderly  families,  was  so  established  that  it  did  not  vary 
20/.  in  amount  for  a series  of  years.  To  householders  of  this 
order,  it  was  a bitter  and  exasperating  thing  to  see  millions  upon 
millions  voted  for  carrying  on  the  war  ; and  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands lavished  in  rewards  to  military  and  naval  officers ; the 
tone  of  government,  and  of  too  large  a proportion  of  parliament 
being  as  if  money  was  inexhaustible.  From  these  middle  classes, 
taxed  in  property  and  income,  taxed  in  bread  and  salt,  taxed  in 
the  house  over  their  heads  and  in  the  shoes  on  their  feet,  com- 
pel. ed  to  take  their  children  from  school,  and  to  lower  the  desti- 
nation of  their  sons,  proceeded  those  deputations,  and  petitions, 
and  demands,  and  outcries,  in  the  closing  days  of  the  century, 
that  the  King  would  “ dismiss  his  weak  and  wicked  ministers.” 
Such  sufferers  did  not  mince  matters  in  those  days,  nor  choose 
their  terms  with  over-civility ; and  certainly  the  records  of  the 
time  give  a strong  and  painful  impression  that  the  government 
regarded  the  people  with  little  other  view  than  as  a taxable  and 
soldier-yielding  ma  s,  troublesome  at  best,  but  a nuisance  when 
it  in  any  way  moved  or  spoke.  To  statesmen,  the  State,  as  a 
unit,  was  alTlnliirr  and  it  is  really  difficult  to  find  any  evidence 
1 Progress  of  the  Nation,  i.  p.  293,  299. 


28  MILITARY  LIABILITIES.  [Book  L 

that  the  people  were  thought  of  at  all,  except  in  the  relation  of 
obedience. 

As  for  the  operative  class,  their  condition  was  often  such  as  to 
Of  industrial  make  the  student  pause,  and  ask  if  he  can  be  reading 
classes.  0f  only  fifty  years  ago.  The  artisan  found  that  since 
he  began  life,  the  expenses  of  living  had  become  fivefold  or  more. 
Meat,  which  had  been  4 d.  per  lb.  when  he  married,  was  now  9 d. 
Butter  was  trebled  in  price,  and  sugar  doubled,  and  salt  quad- 
rupled, and  poor-rate  quintupled.1  The  liability  to  military  ser- 
Miiitary  vice  was  forever  impending.  If  he  did  not  enroll 
liabilities,  himself  as  a volunteer,  to  the  sacrifice  of  much  time 
and  money,  he  was  liable  to  be  drawn  for  the  militia  ; and  he 
must  go  soldiering,  when  required,  or  pay  for  a substitute.  And 
the  means  for  recruiting  the  regular  army  were  put  in  force  so 
variously  and  so  stringently,  that  the  wife  and  children  lived  in  a 
perpetual  dread  that  the  mechanic  or  laborer  would,  some  way 
or  another,  go  for  a soldier.  The  proportion  was  indeed  very 
large.  Besides  the  militia  and  volunteer  forces,  of  which  the 
militia  alone  consisted  of  200,000  men  at  one  time,  the  number 
of  new  soldiers  raised  in  the  first  eight  years  of  the  war  was 
208, 388.2  Of  these,  49,000  had  been  killed,  or  had  otherwise 
died  of  their  service  ; and  7 6,000  had  been  sent  home  disabled. 
Out  of  the  population  of  that  time,  this  was  a very  serious  pro- 
portion : and  so  plentiful  a sprinkling  of  maimed  and  sickly 
returned  soldiers,  and  of  the  widows  and  orphans  of  those  who 
had  never  returned,  was  enough  to  destroy  all  sense  of  domestic 
security  among  the  industrial  classes.  They  were  told,  and 
truly,  how  blessed  their  condition  was  in  comparison  with  that  of 
the  inhabitants  of  the  countries  actually  laid  waste  by  the  war. 
They  were  reminded,  and  properly,  of  their  duty  to  the  state, 
and  the  obligation  they  were  under  to  contribute  to  its  support. 
All  this  was  very  true  : but  not  the  less  did  those  who  lived  near 
the  coast  dread  the  press-gang,  and  villagers  everywhere  abhor 
the  recruiting  party.  In  merely  opening  the  Annual  Registers 
towards  the  close  of  the  century,  we  light  upon  notices  of  riots 
on  occasion  of  enrolling  the  militia,  and  burning  the  muster-rolls 
and  books  at  market-crosses  ; of  mutiny  in  the  fleet ; of  ad- 
dresses to  the  King  about  the  oppressions  of  the  war  so  tremen- 
dously worded  as  that  magistrates  rode  in  among  the  assemblage 
to  stop  the  reading;  and  of  one  month  (in  1797)3  in  which 
“ most  of  the  counties,  cities,  and  towns  of  the  kingdom  petitioned 
his  majesty  for  the  removal  of  ministers,  and  the  consequent  res- 
toration of  peace.” — While  the  course  of  daily  living  was  thus 
hard  to  the  working  man,  and  his  future  precarious,  the  Law 

1 Annual  Register,  1800.  Chron.  94.  2 Ibid.  Chron.  144. 

» Ibid.  1797.  Chron.  18. 


Chaf.  I.J 


HEALTH. 


29 


was  very  cruel.  The  records  of  the  Assizes  in  the  Chronicle  of 
Events  are  sickening  to  read.  The  vast  and  absurd  severity  of 
variety  of  offences  for  which  men  and  women  were  the  Law- 
sentenced  to  death  by  the  score,  out  of  which  one  third  or  so 
were  really  hanged,  gives  now  an  impression  of  devilish  levity  in 
dealing  with  human  life,  and  must,  at  the  time,  have  precluded 
all  rational  conception,  on  the  part  of  the  many,  as  to  what  Law 
is,  — to  say  nothing  of  that  attachment  to  it,  and  reverence  and 
trust  in  regard  to  it,  which  are  indispensable  to  the  true  citizen 
temper. 

The  general  health  was  at  a lower  average,  among  all  these 
distresses,  than  was  even  safe  for  a people  who  might,  Health 
at  any  moment,  have  to  struggle  for  their  existence. 

The  habit  of  intemperance  in  wine  was  still  prevalent  among 
gentlemen  ; so  that  we  read  of  one  public  man  after  another 
whose  death  or  incapacity  was  ascribable  to  disease  from  drink- 
ing. Members  of  the  Cabinet,  Members  of  Parliament,  and 
others,  are  quietly  reported  to  have  said  this  and  that  when  they 
were  drunk.  The  spirit  decanters  were  brought  out  in  the  even- 
ings, in  middle-class  houses,  as  a matter  of  course  ; and  gout, 
and  other  liver  and  stomach  disorders  were  prevalent  to  a degree 
which  the  children  of  our  time  have  no  conception  of.  During 
the  scarcity,  the  diseases  of  scarcity  abounded,  of  course.  Hun- 
dreds ate  nettles  and  other  weeds  ; and  without  salt,  which  was 
then  taxed  155.  per  budiel.  Thousands  of  families  adulterated 
their  bread.  More  meat,  however,  was  eaten  by  laborers  in 
ordinary  times  than  now.  It  was  more  commonly  considered  a 
part  of  their  necessary  food : but  when  meat  averaged  9 d.  per 
lb.,  as  it  did  in  1800,  it  was  out  of  the  reach  of  the  laboring 
class.  An  address  of  Dr.  Ferriar  to  the  working  people  of 
Manchester  in  1800  1 has  been  preserved,  by  which  we  see,  not 
only  how  ripe  was  his  wisdom  in  sanitary  matters,  but  what 
were  the  sanitary  conditions  of  the  class  and  time.  It  is  now 
believed  that,  at  that  period,  the  persons  who  daily  washed  from 
head  to  foot  were  extremely  few  ; yet  Dr.  Ferriar  counsels  par- 
ents so  to  wash  their  children,  in  cold  water,  before  they  send 
them  to  work  in  the  morning  : so  that  he  was  thinking  of  others 
than  infants.  He  warns  the  people  against  damp  cellars,  broken 
windows,  stagnant  air  in  back-rooms,  unaired  bedclothes,  wet 
feet,  work  on  an  empty  stomach,  and  pollution  from  slaughter- 
houses, and  other  foul  places.  He  joins  with  the  warning  against 
ale-house  indulgence  one  which  appears  rather  strange,  — 
“ strolling  in  the  fields  adjoining  to  the  town,”  which  he  seems  to 
think  a rash  exposure  to  cold.  There  was  a notion  abroad 
at  that  time  that  the  worst  peril  to  health  was  from  “ catching 
1 Sanitary  Report  of  1842,  p.  462. 


30 


IRELAND. 


[Book  I. 


cold,”  and  hence  the  popular  treatment  of  fever  — by  heat  and 
exclusion  of  air.  The  horrors  of  small-pox  were  the  worst  of 
the  time.  Well  intended  as  was  the  introduction  of  Inoculation, 
and  great  as  were  its  benefits  to  those  properly  submitted  to  it,  it 
had  the  effect  of  enormously  increasing  the  mortality  from  small- 
pox. Before,  disease  had  come  in  a flood,  every  few  years,  and 
swept  away  thousands  like  a plague,  diminishing  in  the  intervals 
to  a point  almost  below  notice.  After  the  practice  of  Inoculation 
became  extensive,  the  infection  was  kept  always  afloat.  The 
scourge  was  most  fearful  towards  the  close  of  the  last  century.1 
Ninety-two  in  every  thousand  deaths  were  from  small-pox,  in  the 
last  ten  years  ; and  in  all  our  streets  and  villages  and  hospitals 
were  the  blind  and  diseased  and  disfigured  who  had  survived. 
This  was  a woe  about  to  be  removed.  Dr.  Jenner  had  made 
and  published  his  discovery ; and  Vaccination  began  to  be  prac- 
tised in  1800.  Whatever  improvements  may  hereafter  take 
place  in  sanitary  management,  this  date  must  always  stand  con- 
spicuous in  the  history  of  the  national  health. 

In  the  midst  of  all  other  perplexities  and  troubles,  however 
severe,  the  condition  of  Ireland  always  remained 
the  worst  — the  crowning  affliction  of  the  statesman. 
Before  the  end  of  the  American  war,  Ireland  had  been  cruelly 
neglected  as  to  her  means  of  defence,  her  protection  and  comfort. 
A handful  of  dismounted  cavalry  and  of  invalid  soldiery  was 
sent  in  reply  to  the  request  of  port  towns  and  populous  districts 
to  be  furnished  with  the  means  of  defence.  The  Irish  then  very 
naturally  took  measures  for  defending  themselves  ; and  before 
the  end  of  1781,  the  Volunteers  exhibited  a force  of  80,000  men. 
This  force  could  now  obtain  wdiatever  it  pleased  to  ask  ; and  it 
asked  and  obtained  the  absolute  independence  and  supremacy  of 
the  Irish  parliament  — under  the  same  relations  to  the  throne  as 
the  English  parliament.  Superficial  observers,  and  few  others, 
hoped  that  now  all  would  go  well  in  Ireland.  This  was  called  a 
final  settlement ; and  English  people  asked  what  more  the  Irish 
could  possibly  want.  They  wanted  (what  could  not  be  had)  a 
faithful  parliament,  a real  representation.  For  want  of  this 
reality  in  their  so-called  representation,  they  were  worse  off  after 
Lis  settlement  than  before.  While  the  numbers  of  Protestants 
in  Ireland  had  been  stationary,  that  of  Catholics  had  been  on 
the  increase,  till,  from  being  two  to  one,  they  had  now  become 
four  to  one ; and  yet  their  House  of  Commons  was  returned 
almost  entirely  by  the  Orange  interest.  It  was  believed  that 
about  three  fourths  of  the  300  members  were  of  the  Orange 
party  ; and  not  less  than  100  were  placemen  or  pensioners  in  the 
direct  interest  of  the  government.  Such  a scene  of  faction  and 
1 Companion  to  the  Almanac,  1834,  p.  32. 


Chap.  I.] 


UNION  PROPOSED. 


31 


jobbing  has  perhaps  never  been  witnessed  under  the  pretence  of 
working  at  legislation.  As  might  be  expected,  the  unrepresented 
and  oppressed  had  recourse  to  rebellion.  They  invited  the  French 
to  come  and  annex  them  to  France.  The  French  came,  and 
would  have  annexed  Ireland  to  France,  but  for  a series  of  acci- 
dents, and  some  miscalculation  of  the  force  required.  In  1797, 
the  government  were  warned  that  an  insurrection  was  meditated. 
They  did  not  believe  it,  though  there  were  500,000  men  banded 
together  in  conspiracy  ; and  the  militia  who  mounted  guard  in 
Dublin,  and  almost  everywhere  else  throughout  the  island,  would 
have  let  in  the  insurgents  “with  the  greatest  pleasure  in  life.” 
But  by  the  following  March,  no  one  pretended  to  have  any  doubt 
of  the  danger.  The  towns  were  nearly  empty  of  men ; and  in 
the  country,  the  cottages  were  full  of  women  and  children  who 
could  give  no  account  of  any  men  belonging  to  them.1  In  Dublin 
the  name  of  every  inhabitant  was  registered  upon  his  door : the 
walls  displayed  government  proclamations  : there  were  prayers 
in  the  churches  for  life  and  safety : the  theatre  and  other  public 
exhibitions  were  closed  : the  prisons  overflowed  : the  lawyers  in 
the  Courts  and  the  members  in  the  parliament  House  were  in  mil- 
itary uniform  : a mournful  satire  on  the  “ final  settlement  ” of 
Ireland  by  means  of  an  independent  legislature.  The  outbreak 
was  fearful.  The  mere  cost  of  human  life  was  not  less  than 
70,000  lives,  of  which  50,000  were  on  the  Irish  side.  And  there 
was  much  else,  besides  the  extinction  of  life,  to  make  the  Irish 
rebellion  one  of  the  most  fearful  and  painful  spectacles  that  the 
student  of  history  can  be  compelled  to  look  upon. 

As  it  was  clear  that  Ireland  could,  in  no  case,  be  more  mis- 
governed than  by  her  present  parliament,  and  it  was  probable 
that  a British  parliament,  with  all  its  shortcomings,  both  of 
knowledge  and  of  will,  would  give  the  people  some  better  chance 
of  improving  their  state  than  they  had  at  present,  the  proposal  to 
unite  the  legislatures  gained  adherents  from  this  time 
forward,  till  the  proposition  became  affirmed  by  the 
London  parliament  in  1799.  Mr.  Pitt  was  sanguine  about  this 
being  the  shortest  and  easiest  method  of  emancipating  the  Cath- 
olics ; and  he  allowed  this  view  so  far  to  influence  his  conversation 
and  conduct  as  that  the  Catholics  believed  him  pledged  to  procure 
their  emancipation,  if  they  assisted  in  carrying  the  Union  ; and 
this  in  the  face  of  the  King’s  declaration  that  he  would  favor  the 
Union  if  it  conduced  to  the  stability  of  the  Church  : if  otherwise, 
not.2  The  King  was,  probably,  told  that  all  fear  of  Catholic 
ascendency  was  put  an  end  to  by  bringing  the  Irish  representa- 
tion into  a really  supreme  parliament ; while  the  Catholics  might 
reasonably  hope  that  their  numerical  superiority  must  become 
1 Life  of  Curran,  ii.  p.  41.  2 Life  of  Wilberforce,  ii.  p.  325 


32 


THE  UNITED  KINGDOM. 


[Book  L 


understood  and  recognized  when  the  obstruction  of  the  Protes- 
tant legislature  in  Dublin  was  done  away.  However  this  might 
be,  there  was  a mistake.  The  Catholics  believed  themselves  to 
be  consenting  to  the  Union  on  a vital  condition  which  was  not 
fulfilled ; and  thus,  as  we  shall  see,  did  the  Union  turn  out  to  be 
no  more  of  a “ final  settlement  ” of  Ireland  than  any  preceding 
arrangement. 

Imputations  of  other  kinds  of  inducement,  charges  of  “ profli- 
gacy and  corruption,”  were  freely  thrown  out  in  the  Irish  par- 
liament-house and  elsewhere,  in  the  first  months  of  1800:  and 
from  that  day  to  this,  the  calmest  approvers  of  the  Irish  Union 
have  been  observed  to  make  reservations  in  regard  to  the  means 
by  which  the  assent  of  the  Irish  to  the  measure  was  obtained. 
Perhaps  there  was  secret  corruption : but  it  seems  also  probable 
that  the  surprising  change  of  mind  manifested  by  the  Dublin 
parliament  between  the  sessions  of  1799  and  1800  might  suggest 
suspicions  of  bribery,  while  in  fact  the  members  were  only  ex- 
hibiting another  instance  of  the  passion,  short-sightedness,  and 
consequent  fluctuation,  which  too  often  characterized  their  proceed- 
ings. In  1799,  the  Irish  parliament  assented  to  the  English 
parliamentary  resolutions  in  favor  of  the  Union  by  a majority  of 
only  one  vote.  In  the  next  year,  the  majorities  on  the  same 
side  were  large ; and  in  March,  the  two  Houses  agreed  in  an 
address  to  the  King,  assenting  to  the  wisdom  of  the  measure. 
Some  members  of  both  Houses,  on  both  sides  the  Channel,  im- 
plored the  government  to  grant  such  delay  as  should  be  neces- 
sary for  ascertaining  the  real  feelings  of  the  Irish  nation  on  the 
subject : but  this  was  refused  by  overwhelming  majorities  ; and 
the  Act  of  Union  received  the  royal  assent  on  the  2d  of  July, 
1800. 

By  this  act,  Great  Britain  and  Ireland  were  henceforth  to 
constitute  one  kingdom, and  to  be  called  “ The  United  Kingdom” 
accordingly.1  There  was  to  be  one  parliament : and  in  this  par- 
liament the  spiritual  peers  of  Ireland,  and  twenty-eight  temporal 
peers,  elected  for  life  by  the  peers  of  Ireland,  were  to  sit  in  the 
House  of  Lords,  and  one  hundred  members  in  the  House  of 
Commons.  The  Protestant  churches  of  the  two  countries  were 
to  be  united.  The  two  countries  were  to  be  on  equal  terms  as 
regarded  trade  and  navigation  and  treaties  with  foreign  powers. 
The  laws  and  courts  of  both  kingdoms  were  to  remain  unaltered. 
From  the  date  of  the  Union,  all  Acts  of  Parliament  were  to  ex- 
tend to  Ireland,  unless  special  exception  were  made.  The  suc- 
cession to  the  imperial  crown  was  to  be  the  same  as  heretofore  to 
the  two  kingdoms.  It  was  on  the  2d  of  August,  1800,  that  the 
Irish  Parliament  met  for  the  last  time  ; and  there  is  something 
1 Stephen’s  Commentaries,  i.  pp.  94,  95. 


Chap.  I.] 


OPINIONS  ON  THE  UNION. 


33 


affecting  to  those  who  have  lived  to  watch  the  course  of  Irish 
affairs,  in  reading,  at  the  end  of  half  a century,  the  happy  an- 
ticipations of  the  Viceroy,  that,  under  the  protection  of  Divine 
Providence,1  these  un  ted  kingdoms  would  remain,  in  all  future 
ages,  the  fairest  monument  of  the  reign  in  which  their  union 
took  place.  On  the  last  day  of  the  year  and  of  the  century,  the 
King  closed  the  last  session  of  the  British  Parliament,  which 
was  now  to  become  the  Imperial  Parliament.  The  occasion  was 
indeed  a mere  adjournment  for  three  weeks,  as  the  House  of 
Commons  was  in  the  midst  of  the  business  which  at  the  time 
chiefly  occupied  the  King’s  mind,  and  which  he  was  impatient 
for  the  legislature  to  resume,  — the  passing  of  measures  restric- 
tive on  the  use  of  flour,  on  account  of  the  scarcity.  Early  in 
the  year,  a bill  had  passed  which  forbade  the  sale  of  bread 
that  had  been  baked  less  than  twenty-four  hours.  Next,  laws 
were  made  which  bestowed  bounties  on  the  importation  of  corn 
and  of  fish ; subjected  millers  to  supervision  by  the  excise,  and 
to  a legal  rate  of  profits  ; and  stopped  the  distilleries,  to  save 
the  barley.  Other  measures  of  the  same  tendency  were  so  in- 
teresting to  the  King  and  Ministry,2  that  we  find  no  mention  in 
the  royal  speech  of  the  mighty  event  which  was  now  to  take 
place,  except  in  a parenthetical  kind  of  way  — as  a reason  why 
there  must  be  some  delay  about  the  Bread  Bills,  but  no  reason 
for  the  delay  being  a long  one.  But  that  the  speech  stands 
before  our  eyes  complete  in  the  records  of  the  time,  we  could 
hardly  believe  that  such  could  be  the  close  of  the  series  of  Brit- 
ish parliaments,  on  the  eve  of  the  admission  of  the  great  Irish 
element. 

While  there  were  some  who  objected  to  the  Union  altogether, 
as  abolishing  the  nationality  of  Ireland,  and  who  were  convinced 
that  nothing  but  British  force  and  ministerial  corrupt  on  could 
have  carried  the  measure,  there  were  other  Irish  patriots  who 
entered  protests  against  the  incompleteness  of  the  change.  They 
would  have  had  the  Viceroyalty  abolished  ; and  also  all  custom- 
houses on  the  opposite  coasts  of  the  Irish  Channel ; and  they 
would  have  transferred  their  two  Houses  of  Parliament  complete 
into  the  British  Legislature.  The  King  thought  the  Viceroyalty 
might  be  abolished : and  probably  every  one  now  wishes  there 
had  been  free  trade,  from  the  beginning,  between  the  two  coun- 
tries : but,  as  for  other  points,  the  political  fusion  must  stop 
somewhere,  if  the  Irish  were  to  preserve  anything  distinctive  at 
all,  or  to  enter  into  the  Union  with  any  good  will : and  it  is,  in 
such  cases,  for  an  after-time  to  perceive  and  decide  where  the 
fusion  should  stop.  As  will  presently  appear,  there  was  some- 
thing more  pressing  than  this  which  had  been  neglected,  and 

1 Annual  Reg.  1800.  Cliron.  183.  2 Ibid.  Chron.  178. 

VOL.  I.  3 


34 


TEMPER  OF  THE  TIMES. 


[Book  I 


which  made  the  subject  of  the  Union  the  bitterest  and  the  most 
disastrous  that  filled  the  minds  of  our  statesmen  for  a long  course 
of  years. 

It  is  common  to  us  to  hear  and  to  say  that  the  temper  of  the 
Temper  of  times,  fifty  years  ago,  was  warlike  ; though,  in  fact,  the 
the  times.  people  were  beginning  to  have,  and  to  express,  a pas- 
sionate desire  for  peace.  To  say  that  the  temper  of  the  times  was 
warlike  gives  no  idea,  to  us  who  can  scarcely  remember  war-times, 
of  the  spirit  of  violence,  and  the  barbaric  habits  of  thought  and  life, 
which  then  prevailed.  Everything  seems,  in  the  records,  to  have 
suffered  a war-change.  The  gravest  annalists,  the  most  educated 
public  men,  called  the  First  Consul  “ the  Corsican  murderer,”  and 
so  forth,  through  the  whole  vocabulary  of  abuse.  Nelson’s  first 
precept  of  professional  morality  was  to  hate  a Frenchman  as  you 
would  the  devil.  Government  rule  took  the  form  of  coercion ; 
and  popular  discontent  that  of  rebellion;  and  suffering  ihat  of 
riot.  The  passionate  order  of  crime  showed  itself  slaughterous ; 
the  mean  kind  exercised  itself  in  peculation  of  military  and 
naval  provisions.  Affliction  took  its  character  from  the  war. 
Tens  of  thousands  of  widows,  and  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
orphans,  were  weeping  or  starving  in  the  midst  of  society ; and 
among  the  starving  were  a multitude  of  the  families  of  employed 
sailors,  who  were  sent  off  on  long  voyages,  while  their  pay  was 
three  or  four  years  in  arrear.  The  mutiny,  which  spread  half 
round  our  coasts,  was  a natural,  almost  a necessary  consequence. 
Because  it  was  “ suppressed,”  it  does  not  follow  that  the  feelings 
connected  with  it  were  extinguished.  In  Wilberforce’s  Diary 
we  find  an  expression  of  strong  regret  that  “ the  officers  do  not 
love  the  sailors,”  such  being,  he  observes,  the  consequence  of  fear 
entering  into  such  a relation  — fear  on  the  part  of  superiors. 
The  sufferings  from  bad  seasons,  again,  were  aggravated  by  a tax- 
ation growing  heavier  every  year,  and  money  running  shorter 
every  day,  — all  on  account  of  the  war.  The  very  sports  of  the 
time  took  their  character  from  the  same  class  of  influences. 
The  world  went  to  see  reviews,  at  which  the  King  (when  well) 
appeared  on  horseback.  Then,  there  were  illuminations  for  vic- 
tories ; and  funerals  of  prodigious  grandeur,  when  military  and 
naval  officers  of  eminence  were  to  be  buried  in  places  of  honoi. 
There  were  presentations  of  jewelled  swords,  in  provincial  cities 
as  well  as  in  London  ; and,  from  the  metropolitan  theatre  to  the 
puppet-show,  there  were  celebrations  and  representations  of  com- 
bats by  sea  or  land.  The  inhabitants  of  towns  came  to  their  win- 
dows and  doors  at  the  tramp  of  cavalry  ; ladies  presented  colors 
to  regiments  ; and  children  played  at  soldiers  on  the  village-green. 
Prayers  and  thanksgivings  in  church  and  chapel  — services  ut- 
terly confounding  now  to  the  moral  sense  of  a time  which  has 


Chap.  I.] 


WARLIKE  VIRTUES. 


35 


leisure  to  see  that  Christianity  is  a religion  of  brotherly  love  — 
then  met  with  a loud  response  which  had  in  it  a hard  tone  of 
worldly  passion  : and  from  church  and  chapel,  the  congregation 
took  a walk  to  see  the  Sunday  drill.  Manufacturers  and  trades- 
men contested  vehemently  for  army  and  navy  contracts  ; and  the 
bankrupt  list  in  the  Gazette  .showed  a large  proportion  of  de- 
pendents on  army  and  navy  contractors  who  could  not  get  paid. 
If  the  vices  and  miseries  of  the  time  took  their  character  from 
the  war,  there  was  a fully  corresponding  manifestation  of  virtue. 
From  Pitt  at  the  head,  down  to  the  humblest  peasant  or  the  most 
timid  woman  in  the  remotest  corner  of  the  kingdom,  all  who  were 
worthy  were  animated  by  the  appeals  of  the  times,  and  magna- 
nimity came  out  in  all  directions.  The  courage  was  not  only  in 
the  Nelsons  and  the  Wellesleys  : it  was  in  the  soul  of  the  sailor’s 
love,  and  the  gray-haired  father  of  the  soldier,  when  their  hearts 
beat  at  the  thought  of  battle  and  the  threat  of  invasion.  The 
self-denial  was  found  all  abroad,  from  the  Pitt  who  could  respect- 
fully support  an  Addington  Ministry,  and  a Wilberforce  who  cur- 
tailed his  luxuries,  and  exceeded  his  income  by  3000/.  in  one 
year,  to  feed  the  poor  in  the  scarcity,  down  to  the  sister  who  dis- 
missed her  brother  to  the  wars  with  a smile,  and  the  operative 
who  worked  extra  hours  when  he  should  have  slept,  — all  sus- 
tained alike  by  the  thought  that  they  were  obeying  a call  of  their 
country.  It  was  a phase  of  the  national  life  which  should  be 
preserved  in  vivid  representation,  for  its  own  value,  as  well  as 
because  it  may  be  a curious  spectacle  to  a future  age. 


36 


MR.  PITT’S  FAULTS. 


[Book  L 


CHAPTER  II. 

The  first  days  of  the  new  century  — not  the  first  years  or 
months,  but  the  first  days  — present  a picture  of  the  faults  and 
weaknesses  of  statesmanship,  which  will  make  it  a wonder  through 
all  historic  time  that  the  British  nation  preserved  its  place  in  the 
world.  After  putting  together  the  facts  yielded  by  the  various 
records  of  the  time,  and  thus  obtaining  a clear  view  of  the  in- 
trigues, the  selfishness,  the  ignorance,  the  foolishness,  the  mutual 
deceit  and  misunderstandings,  of  the  parties  on  and  about  the 
throne,  the  student  of  history  draws  a long  breath  of  thankful- 
ness and  surprise  that  the  nation  should  have  escaped  falling  into 
a political  chaos,  and  thus  becoming  an  easy  prey  to  foreign  foes. 
Some  parts  of  the  story  remain  obscure  ; but  the  greater  portion 
has  of  late  become  sufficiently  clear  to  explain  and  justify  Lord 
Malmesbury’s  exclamation  in  soliloquy,1  “ We  forget  the  host 
of  enemies  close  upon  us,  and  everybody’s  mind  thinks  on  one 
object  only,  unmindful  that  all  they  are  contending  about  may 
vanish  and  disappear  if  we  are  subdued  by  France.” 

The  chief  obscurity  is  how  such  things  as  are  now  to  be  dis- 
closed could  happen  under  the  premiership  of  Mr.  Pitt. 
r’  1 The  mystery  of  the  particulars  of  his  conduct  must 
remain  ; but  a careful  study  of  the  men  involved  with  him  seems 
to  yield  a general  impression  that  Mr.  Pitt’s  chief  fault  was  an 
undue  self-reliance,  leading  him  to  a careless  treatment  of  the 
King,  a want  of  consideration  to  his  colleagues,  and  a too  easy 
trust  that  he  could  manage  difficulties  as  they  arose,  by  means 
of  resources  which  had  never  yet  failed  him.  His  temper  was  so 
sanguine  as  to  impair  his  sagacity  throughout  his  whole  career. 
He  was  always  found  trusting  our  allies  abroad  — not  only  their 
good  faith  and  ability,  but  their  good  fortune.  He  was  always 
found  expecting  that  the  Austrians  would  defeat  Napoleon  in 
the  next  battle ; believing  that  the  plan  of  every  campaign  was 
admirable  and  inexpugnable  ; immovably  convinced  that  what  he 
considered  the  right  must  prevail  — not  only  in  the  long  run,  but 
at  every  step.  If  his  fortitude  of  soul  and  sweetness  of  temper 
had  not  incessantly  overborne  his  imperfection  of  judgment,  his 
1 Diaries,  iv.  p.  9. 


Chap.  II.] 


CHARM  INVESTING  HIM. 


37 


career  must  have  ended  very  early  ; for  his  failures  were  inces- 
sant. Such  a repetition  of  failures  would  not  have  been  per- 
mitted to  any  man  whose  personal  greatness  and  sweetness  did 
not  overbear  other  people’s  faculties  as  much  as  his  own.  If  it 
is  impossible  now  to  read  his  private  letters,  written  in  the  dark- 
est hours  of  his  official  adversities,  without  a throbbing  of  the 
heart  at  the  calm  fortitude  and  indomitable  hopefulness  of  their 
tone,  it  may  be  easily  conceived  how  overpowering  was  the  influ- 
ence of  these  qualities  over  the  minds  of  the  small  men,  and  the 
superficial  men,  and  the  congenial  men,  and  the  affectionate  idol- 
ators,  by  whom  he  was  surrounded.  If  any  of  these  doubted 
whether  the  Austrians  would  win  the  next  battle,  it  was  not  till 
they  went  home  and  sank  into  themselves  ; and  then  they  did 
not  tell  him  so.  If  any  of  them  feared  Napoleon  more  than  they 
trusted  plans  of  a campaign,  it  was  not  while  his  bright  eye  was 
upon  them,  and  his  eloquence  of  hope  was  filling  their  ears  ; and 
when  they  relapsed  into  dread,  they  did  not  tell  him  so.  The 
restless,  suspicious,  wTorrying,  obstinate,  ignorant  mind  of  the  half- 
insane  King  was  laid  at  rest  for  the  hour  when  they  were  to- 
gether ; and  the  charm  which  invested  the  minister  made  him  for 
those  hours  the  sovereign  over  his  master.  It  was  no  wonder 
that  all  this  did  him  harm  and  tended  to  impair  still  further  his 
already  weak  sagacity.  When  he  carried  his  accustomed  meth- 
ods into  the  conduct  of  critical  affairs  of  domestic  politics,  it  could 
not  be  but  that,  sooner  or  later,  he  must  find  himself  involved  in 
some  tremendous  difficulty.  He  was  always  kept  in  the  dark 
about  one  thing  or  another  that  it  was  important  for  him  to 
know.  Nobody  ever  hinted  to  him  that  he  was  wrong  : nobody 
ever  called  him  to  account : there  were  none  but  party  foes  to 
show  him  the  other  side  of  any  question.  Holding  his  head  high 
above  the  jobbers  and  self-seekers  about  him,  and  never  looking 
down  into  their  dirty  tricks,  or  giving  ear  to  their  selfish  crav- 
ings, except  to  get  rid  of  them  by  gratifying  them  — too  easily, 
no  doubt,  but  with  a heedless  contempt ; resorting  for  sympathy 
and  counsel  to  the  best  of  his  friends,  and  then -finding  little  but 
open-hearted  idolatry,  it  is  no  wonder  that  he  was  unguarded, 
over-confident,  and  virtually,  though  not  consciously,  despotic. 
Despotic  lie  was  throughout.  His  comrades,  including  the  King, 
revelled  in  the  despotism,  on  account  of  its  charm.  The  suffering 
people  felt  the  worst  of  the  despotism  without  any  of  the  charm. 
While  this  host  of  sufferers  was  growing  restless  under  the 
burdens  of  the  war,  and  some  of  them  frantic  under  the  repres- 
sion of  their  civil  liberties  ; while  the  Northern  Powers  were 
banding  against  us,  to  cut  off  our  commerce  and  humble  our 
naval  pride ; while  Napoleon  was  marshalling  his  500,000  sol- 
diers on  their  coast,  so  that  they  could  be  seen  from  our  cliffs  on 


38 


PITT’S  FEAR  AND  REMORSE. 


[Book  I. 


a sunny  day  ; while  the  frame  of  the  great  minister  was  wearing 
down  under  the  secret  griefs  and  mortifications  which  he  never 
breathed  to  human  ear,  he  involved  himself  by  his  constitutional 
and  habitual  faults  in  a fog  of  difficulty,  which  darkened  the 
opening  of  the  new  century,  and  poisoned  his  peace  and  his  life. 
He  scarcely  abated  the  loftiness  of  his  carriage  in  the  midst  of 
it ; he  manifested  a higher  magnanimity  than  ever  before  ; his 
patience  and  gentleness  almost  intoxicated  the  moral  sense  of 
his  adorers : he  seemed  to  forget  all  cares  in  reading  Aristoph- 
anes and  reciting  Horace  or  Lucan  with  his  young  friend  Can- 
ning under  the  trees  at  sunset,  or  kept  together  parties  of  friends 
— ladies,  children,  and  all  — round  the  fireside  till  past  midnight, 
by  his  flow  of  rich  discourse ; but  his  spirit  was  breaking.  He 
had  learned  what  fear  was : and  it  was  a fear  which  brought 
remorse  with  it.  No  remorse  for  the  slaughter  of  the  war  ; no 
remorse  for  the  woes  of  widows  and  orphans  ; no  remorse  for 
having  overborne  the  Englishman’s  liberty  of  speech  and  political 
action.  About  these  things  he  appears  to  have  had  no  sensi- 
bility. He  had  no  popular  sympathies ; though  he  certainly 
would  have  had,  if  the  people  had  ever  come  before  his  eyes,  or 
he  had  had  that  high  faculty  of  imagination  which  might  have 
brought  them  before  the  eye  of  his  mind.  To  him,  the  people 
were  an  abstraction  ; and  he  had  no  turn  for  abstractions.  The 
nearest  approach  he  made  to  entertaining  abstractions  was  in 
acting  for  the  national  glory  and  international  duty.  His  view 
was  probably  right,  as  far  as  it  went:  but  it  was  imperfect  — 
so  imperfect,  that  he  may  be  pronounced  unfit  for  such  a place 
as  he  held,  in  such  times.  His  remorse  was  for  nothing  of  this 
kind  ; but  for  his  having  done  that  which  caused  a return  of 
the  King’s  insanity,  and,  by  that  consequence,  compelled  him  to 
break  faith  with  the  Catholics.  He  always  denied  — and  every- 
body believes  him  — that  any  express  pledge  was  given  to  the 
Catholics  : but  nobody  denies  that  those  of  them  who  agreed  to 
the  Union  did  so  under  an  authorized  expectation  that  they 
might  send  representatives  out  of  their  own  body  to  Parliament. 
This  expectation  he  found  himself  compelled  to  disappoint,  fie 
was  not  one  to  acknowledge  the  effect  upon  himself  of  such  a 
difficulty  as  had  arisen  through  his  means  : but  all  who  loved 
him  immediately  saw,  and  those  who  opposed  him  soon  learned, 
that  the  peace  of  his  mind  and  the  brilliancy  of  his  life  were 
overshadowed.  But  a short  term  of  life  remained  : and  that 
had  much  bitterness  in  it — so  much  that  it  was  truly  a bitter- 
ness unto  death.  He  died  broken-hearted. 

What  he  had  now  done  was  this:  — In  January  1799, 1 he 
declared,  in  the  debate  on  the  Union,  that  no  change  ought  to 
1 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  i.  p.  279. 


Chap.  II.] 


CATHOLIC  EMANCIPATION. 


39 


be  made  in  the  Test  Acts  until  “the  conduct  of  the  Roman 
Catholics  should  be  such  as  to  make  it  safe  for  the  government 
to  admit  them  to  further  privileges,  and  until  the  temper  of  the 
times  should  be  favorable  to  such  a measure.”  As  months 
passed  on,  however,  the  minister  saw  more  and  more  clearly  how 
harmless  such  a proportion  of  Catholics  as  could  be  sent  from 
Ireland  would  be  in  the  British  parliament,  though  their  vast 
preponderance  in  their  own  island  had  prevented  all  thoughts  of 
admitting  them  there  to  legislative  offices.  Mr.  Windham,  Lord 
Grenville,  and  many  others  of  Mr.  Pitt’s  habitual  associates,  agreed 
with  him  in  this  ; and  it  is  clear  that  they  often  talked  The  Catholic 
the  matter  over,  and  discussed  the  securities  which  Question  in 
might  be  deemed  sufficient,  till  they  became  so  familiar-  tiie  Cabmet- 
ized  with  the  subject  as  to  grow  careless  and  indiscreet.  The 
Catholics  knew  what  they  were  thinking  about,  and  the  King  did 
not.  That  is,  the  King  knew  something  of  his  minister’s  opinion, 
from  conversation  with  him  in  an  ordinary  way ; but  Mr.  Pitt 
neglected  to  give  the  due  official  intimation  to  the  King,  when 
the  subject  of  admitting  Catholics  to  parliament  became  one  of 
official  discussion.1  When,  at  the  beginning  of  1801,  the  King 
was  told  by  Lord  Spencer  that  the  subject  had  been  under  con- 
sideration so  far  back  as  the  preceding  August,  he  was  deeply 
offended.  This  disrespectful  carelessness  of  Mr.  Pitt  was  a fair 
occasion  for  self-seekers  and  enviers  to  take  advantage  of  the 
minister’s  neglect  and  the  Sovereign’s  weaknesses.  Lord  Auck- 
land seems  to  have  made  the  first  move,  — he  who,  after  these 
efforts  to  displace  Mr.  Pitt,  mentioned  himself  as  thought  of  for 
Prime  Minister,  but  who  remained  only  a joint  holder  of  the 
office  of  Postmaster-General  with  Lord  Charles  Spencer.2  He 
and  the  Chancellor,  Lord  Loughborough,  wrought  together,  in 
the  autumn,  with  deep  secrecy  ; but  such  secrets  cannot  forever 
be  hidden  ; and  the  transaction  is  now  well  understood.  In 
September,  the  Chancellor  called  on  the  Duke  of  Portland,  and 
asked  him  what  he  thought  of  the  plan  for  Catholic  Emancipa- 
tion 3 at  that  time  in  discussion  among  the  ministers  Finding 
the  Duke  favorable  to  the  measure,  he  proposed  to  leave  with 
him  a paper  he  had  written,  setting  forth  the  anti- Catholic  view. 
This  paper  reached  the  King  on  the  13th  of  December.4  Mean- 
time, and  in  concert  with  this  action  of  the  Chancellor,  Lord 
Auckland,  also  a member  of  the  Administration,  wrote  (with 
strong  injunctions  of  secrecy  as  regarded  himself)  to  his  brother- 
in-law,  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  telling  him  that  he  consid- 
ered it  his  duty  to  inform  him  that  a measure  was  in  contempla- 
tion which  would  be  fatal  to  the  Church ; 6 and  to  suggest  to  him 

1 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  i.  p.  298.  2 Diaries  of  Lord  Malmesbury,  iv.  p.  2. 

8 Ibid,  p 22.  4 Life  0f  Lord  ISidmouth,  i.  pk  500. 

6 Diaries,  &c.,  iv.  p.  17. 


40 


IRRITATION  OF  THE  KING. 


[Book  L 


that  it  was  his  duty,  as  Primate,  to  lay  warnings  before  the 
King.  The  Archbishop  consulted  the  Primate  of  Ireland  and 
the  Bishop  of  London,  and  then  wrote  the  desired  warning  to 
the  King,  who  was  at  Weymouth  at  that  time.  The  King  wrote 
a long  remonstrance  to  his  minister,  which  not  only  showed,  but 
avowed,  that  he  knew  what  was  going  on.  After  this,  it  would 
be  absurd  to  say  that  the  King  was  kept  in  the  dark  later  than 
the  autumn  ; but  there  was  still  no  such  official  communication 
as  the  importance  of  the  subject  required ; and  the  effect  of  the 
consequent  irritation  on  the  weak  brain  of  the  old  man  could  be 
no  matter  of  surprise  to  anybody. 

In  September,  Lord  Castlereagh,  then  the  young  Chief  Secre- 
tary for  Ireland,  brought  over  the  scheme  for  Catholic  emancipa- 
tion which  was  considered  the  best : and  if,  as  there  appears  to 

be  no  doubt,  this  was  “ the  plan  of  Lord  C which  is 

freely  handled  in  the  Chancellor’s  paper,  the  King  must  have 
known  all  about  it  at  least  for  some  weeks : 1 yet,  at  the  levee  on 
the  28th  of  January,  the  day  after  Mr.  Pitt  had  laid  the  matter 
before  him,  the  King  said  to  Mr.  Henry  Dundas,  then  Secretary 
of  State,  “ What  is  this  that  this  young  lord  has  brought  over, 
which  they  are  going  to  throw  at  my  head  ? I shall  reckon  any 
man  my  personal  enemy  ” (and  this  he  said  also  to  Mr.  Windham 
on  the  same  day)  “ who  proposes  any  such  measure.  The  most 
Jacobinical  thing  I ever  heard  of.”  Dundas’s  answer  was,  “ You 
will  find  among  those  who  are  friendly  to  that  measure  some  whom 
you  never  supposed  your  enemies.”  — The  next  day,  January 
29th,  after  Mr.  Addington  had  been  rechosen  Speaker  of  the 
Commons,  and  while  the  swearing  in  of  members  was  proceed- 
ing, the  King  wrote  to  the  Speaker,  to  ask  his  intervention.2  “ I 
wish  he  would,  from  himself,  open  Mr.  Pitts  eyes  on  the  danger 
arising  from  the  agitating  this  improper  question,  which  may 
prevent  his  ever  speaking  to  me  on  a subject  on  which  I can 
scarcely  keep  my  temper,  and  also  his  giving  great  apprehension 
to  every  true  member  of  our  church,”  &c.  It  was  not  only  his 
temper  that  the  King  could  not  keep.  His  wits  were  going.3 
lie  called  to  General  Garth  one  day  at  this  time,  to  ride  up  close 
to  him  ; and  said  he  had  had  no  sleep  the  last  night,  and  felt 
bilious  and  unwell : that  the  reason  was  that  Mr.  Pitt  had  ap- 
plied to  him  to  emancipate  the  Catholics.  On  arriving  at  Kew, 
the  General  was  desired  to  find  the  Coronation  Oath  in  the 
library,  and  to  read  it  aloud.  The  King,  as  usual,  begging  the 
question  about  the  liberty  of  the  Catholics  being  fatal  to  the 
Protestant  religion,  declared  with  vehemence  that  he  would 

1 Wilberforce's  Diary,  iii.  p.  7.  2 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  i.  p.  286. 

3 Ibid.  p.  285. 


Chap.  II  ] 


MR.  PITT  WILL  RESIGN. 


41 


rather  beg  his  bread  from  door  to  door  all  through  Europe  than 
break  his  oath  by  consenting  to  the  measure. 

Mr.  Addington,  whose  genius  was  not  for  correct  representa- 
tion, carried  to  the  poor  King  a report  of  Mr.  Pitt’s  yielding, 
which  filled  his  heart  with  joy  for  the  hourJ  But  before  night, 
the  mistake  was  discovered  by  a letter  arriving  from  the  Minis- 
ter— calm,  unbending,  and  decisive  as  to  his  opinion  and  inten- 
tions on  the  great  question.  This  was  on  Saturday,  Propose(i 
January  31st.  When  the  Speaker  waited  on  the  change  of 
King  by  appointment  that  evening,  after  the  arrival  mmlstry* 
of  Mr.  Pitt’s  letter,  he  was  greeted  with  a command  to  under- 
take the  conduct  of  affairs.  When  he  would  have  declined,  the 
King  said  to  him,  very  earnestly,  “ Lay  your  hand  upon  your 
heart,  and  ask  yourself  where  I am  to  turn  for  support  if  you 
do  not  stand  by  me.”  Mr.  Pitt’s  comment,  when  his  friend  Ad- 
dington went  to  relate  it  to  him,  was,  “ I see  nothing  but  ruin, 
Addington,  if  you  hesitate.  ’ 

According  to  the  King’s  own  account,  it  was  on  the  next  day, 
Sunday,  February  1st,  that  Mr.  Dundas  waited  on  him  to  en- 
deavor to  convey  to  him  the  ministers’  view  of  the  matter  in  dis- 
pute ; and  it  is  believed  to  have  been  on  this  occasion  that  the 
sovereign  would  not  listen  to  their  construction  of  the  oath  which 
he  made  his  plea.  When  told  tiiat  the  engagement  related  to  the 
monarch’s  executive,  and  not  his  legislative  action,  the  King  ex- 
claimed, “ None  of  your  Scotch  metaphysics,  Mr.  Dundas ! ” 3 — 
On  the  same  day,  Mr.  Pitt  sent  in  what  he  intended  to  be  his 
letter  of  resignation,  after  he  had  held  the  Premiership  for  seven- 
teen years.  His  master’s  attachment  to  him  was  so  strong  that, 
in  his  reply,  he  left  as  wide  an  opening  as  his  troubled  mind 
would  allow  for  the  minister  to  recede ; 4 but  Mr.  Pitt’s  rejoinder 
was  as  unbending  and  explicit  as  before,  and  on  the  5th  his 
resignation  was  courteously  accepted  ; and  Mr.  Addington  pro- 
ceeded to  attempt  to  form  an  administration.  The  work  was 
difficult;  for  the  most  capable  of  Mr.  Pitt’s  friends  went  out 
with  him,  — Mr.  Dundas,  Lord  Grenville,  Lord  Spencer,  and 
Mr.  Windham.  It  was  no  ordinary  occasion  of  changing  the  rul- 
ers of  the  empire.  While  inferior  men  — the  self-seekers,  who 
thought  politics  were  ordained  to  fill  their  pockets  and  magnify 
their  names  — were  hard  to  please,  complaining  that  an  income 
of  2000/.  a year  was  too  little,  and  striving  to  get  poor  relations 
and  even  their  butlers  and  valets  provided  for  in  small  offices, 
better  men  all  over  the  kingdom  saw  that  on  this  arrangement 
depended  the  allegiance  (of  the  heart,  at  least)  of  Ireland,  and 

1 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  i.  p.  287.  2 Ibid  p.  298. 

8 Life  of  Mackintosh,  i.  p.  170.  4 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  i.  p.  289. 


42 


CHANGES  IN  THE  MINISTRY. 


[Book  I. 


the  mighty  question  of  peace  or  war  with  France,  and  with  the 
banded  powers  of  the  North.  The  choice  of  ministers  was  re- 
stricted : for  the  new  Premier  was  hedged  in  between  the  par- 
ties of  Pitt  and  Fox ; and  it  was  difficult  to  see  how,  if  the  King 
maintained  his  ground  about  the  Catholic  question,  he  could 
avoid  choosing  his  most  capable  ministers  from  out  of  the  ranks 
of  Opposition.  It  would  have  been  a hard  task  for  a man  of 
more  ability  than  Mr.  Addington.  Mr.  Pitt’s  magnanimity  came 
to  the  rescue.  He  offered  to  sustain  the  new  minister  with  his 
whole  .force ; and  it  came  to  be  presently  understood  that  he 
would  be  virtually  minister,  while  retaining  his  independence  on 
the  Catholic  question.  The  country  therefore  supposed  that  the 
decision  was  made  for  continued  war. 

The  King’s  mind  was,  however,  too  much  disturbed  to  subside. 
On  the  6th  of  February,  the  day  after  Mr.  Addington’s  acceptance 
of  office,  the  King  read  his  coronation  oath  to  his  family,  asked 
them  if  they  understood  it,  and  declared,1  “ If  I violate  it,  I am  no 
longer  legal  sovereign  of  this  country,  but  it  falls  to  the  House  of 
Savoy.” 

The  secret  of  the  change  of  ministry  was  now  oozing  out,  and 
causing  intense  excitement  from  its  connection  with  the  War  ques- 
tion ; and  the  public  agitation  reacted  on  the  King.  On  the  7th, 
Mr.  Addington  gave  the  customary  dinner,  as  Speaker,  to  a large 
number  of  guests,  who  all  secretly  knew  what  was  about  to  hap- 
pen. On  the  8th,  Mr.  Pitt  and  his  successor  were  observed  to 
dine  together  without  witnesses.  On  the  9th,  all  London  was 
speculating  on  the  arrangements.  On  the  10th,  Mr.  Addington 
resigned  the  Speakership,  to  which  he  had  been  elected  a few 
days  before;  and  on  the  11th,  the  Attorney- General,  Sir  John 
Mitford,  resigning  his  office  for  the  purpose,  succeeded  to  the 
Speakership.2  A letter  from  the  King  to  Mr.  Addington,  of 
that  date,  is  clear  and  sensible  ; the  well-known  letter  which 
declares  his  opinion  that  the  office  of  Lord  Lieutenant  of  Ireland 
would  be  abolished  after  a time,  though  it  was  necessary  at  first 
to  continue  it,  in  order  to  extinguish  the  system  of  Irish  jobbing, 
and  to  show  that  the  Viceroy  himself  could  only  recommend  to 
office,  while  the  real  patronage  rested  with  the  Imperial  govern- 
ment. A note  of  the  next  day,  however,  exulting  in  the  election 
of  the  Speaker,  manifests  strong  excitement.  On  that  day,  the 
12th,  some  mortification  occurred  in  the  resignation  of  Mr.  Can- 
ning, then  a rising  young  man  whom  the  new  Minister  would 
have  been  glad  to  retain,  on  account  of  his  brilliant  abilities. 
Mr.  Pitt  urged  his  young  friend  to  remain  ; but  it  was  Canning 
who  had  urged  Mr.  Pitt  not  to  yield  the  point  on  which  he  went 

1 Diaries  of  Lord  Malmesbury,  iv.  p.  22. 

2 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  i.  p.  303. 


Chap.  II.] 


ILLNESS  OF  THE  KING. 


43 


out  of  office,1  saying  that  for  three  years  past  so  many  conces- 
sions had  been  made  to  the  King’s  prejudices,  and  so  many  im- 
portant measures  overruled  by  them,  that  the  government  was 
materially  weakened  ; and  it  was  high  time,  for  the  sake  of  the 
country,  to  make  a stand  against  the  evil  influences  which  swayed 
the  King.  Resigning  for  such  reasons  as  these,  Mr.  Canning 
was  a great  loss.  The  first  hint  we  find  of  the  recognition  of 
Mr.  Addington’s  incapacity  for  his  new  position  is  in  Mr.  Can- 
ning’s promise  to  Mr.  Pitt  not  to  laugh  at  the  appointment  of  the 
new  Premier.  Lord  Malmesbury  already  saw  the  hollowness 
of  the  state  of  things,  when  such  “ sneering  ” went  on  in  private, 
while  public  professions  of  support  were  made  which  seem  to  jus- 
tify the  poor  King’s  almost  ludicrous  reliance  on  his  obsequious 
new  minister.  On  the  loth,  we  find  the  King  clinging  to  the  hope 
that  Mr.  Pitt  had  been  led  on  to  his  “rash  step  ” of  advocating 
the  cause  of  the  Catholics,  and  that  “ his  own  good  heart  ” now 
impelled  him  to  make  reparation  in  the  form  of  support  of  his 
successor.  On  the  same  day,  the  King  remained  long  in  church, 
as  it  was  the  day  appointed  for  a general  fast.  He  caught  cold ; 
and  the  next  day  wrote  letters  which  show  hurry  and  ninessofthe 
excitement.  “ God  forbid  he  should  be  ill ! ” writes  Kins- 
Lord  Malmesbury  on  the  17th.  It  was  a most  critical  point  of 
time.'2  Lord  Colchester's  diary  reports  that  he  never  saw  more 
trepidation  in  the  House,  more  anxiety  and  concern  on  the 
ministerial  side,  or  more  eagerness  in  the  opposition.  And  Mr. 
Pitt  had  not  resigned.  The  painful  interview  with  him  was  im- 
pending when  the  King  was  taken  ill.  On  the  18th,  the  King 
was  observed  to  talk  very  loud,  and  it  became  known  that  he 
had  for  some  time  used  violent  expressions  about  the  Catholic 
question,  saying  that  it  might  bring  the  advocates  of  emancipa- 
tion to  the  gibbet.  In  a few  hours  more,  his  madness  could  not 
be  concealed ; and  the  immediate  occasion  was  so  clear  that  Mr. 
Pitt  never  recovered  the  shock.  On  the  23d,  the  poor  King 
said,  after  some  hours  of  moody  silence,  “ I am  better  now,  but  I 
will  remain  true  to  the  Church.”  No  wonder  Mr.  Pitt  was  ill 
too ; “ very  unwell  — much  shaken  — gouty  and  nervous.”  3 The 
Prince  of  Wales  took  the  matter  more  easily.  While  his  father’s 
derangement  was  filling  all  minds  with  concern  and  dismay,  he 
went  to  a concert  at  Lady  Hamilton’s,  and  there  said  aloud  to 
Calonne,  the  French  ex-minister,4  “ Have  you  heard  that  my 
father  is  as  mad  as  ever?”  Such  was  the  Prince  who  must  be 
Regei  i,  if  the  illness  continued ; and  it  was  another  heavy  anx- 
iety to  Mr.  Pitt.  There  was  worse  to  come,  however.  That 
which  finally  broke  his  spirit  about  the  Catholic  question,  and 

1 Lord  Malmesbury’s  Diaries,  iv.  p.  5.  3 Diaries,  iv.  p.  20. 

2 Life  of  Lord  Sidmoutli,  i.  p.  313.  4 Ibid.  p.  21. 


44 


DISPOSITION  TO  PEACE. 


[Book  1. 


made  him  surrender  all  care  for  his  political  honor  on  that  press- 
ing subject,  was  a message  from  the  King,  sent  by  his  physician 
in  the  first  week  of  March.1  “Tell  him,”  said  ihe  King  to  Dr. 
Willis,  “ I am  now  quite  well;  quite  recovered  from  my  illness  ; 
but  what  has  he  not  to  answer  for  who  is  the  cause  of  my  having 
been  ill  at  all?”  Hard  and  unreasonable  as  now  appears  this 
punishment  of  a statesman  for  a sincere  and  inevitable  conviction 
— or,  at  most,  for  some  carelessness  in  the  management  of  the 
topic  — it  was  too  much  for  the  courage  of  one  already  so  shaken. 
Mr.  Pitt  wrote  a submissive  letter  to  the  King,  and  pledged 
himself  never  to  stir  the  subject  more. 

The  King  was,  however,  not  so  well  as  he  himself  believed. 
For  several  weeks  afterwards  we  find  notices  of  his  being  indis- 
creet, sentimental,  and  restless  ; of  the  Prince  of  Wales  insinuat- 
ing that  he  was  completely  deranged  ; of  acute  observers  fearing 
that  he  would  sink  into  fatuity  ; of  the  Queen  and  Princesses 
appearing  with  swollen  eyes  and  depressed  countenances.  And 
already,  throughout  this  month  of  March,  the  new  Premier  — 
actually  not  yet  in  office,  because  Mr.  Pitt  had  had  no  opportu- 
nity of  resigning  the  seals  — was  planning  a Peace,  though  no 
Disposition  one  could  conceive  how  the  venture  was  to  be  made 
to  peace.  0f  mentioning  it  to  the  King.  When  once  Mr.  Pitt 
had  yielded  the  Catholic  question,  there  seemed  to  be  no  reason 
why  he  should  not  continue  minister : and  there  is  no  doubt  that 
it  was  the  ardent  wish  of  the  King  that  he  should  ; and  the  wish 
also  of  all  who  feared  a hasty  and  inglorious  peace,  such  as  the 
new  Premier  showed  a disposition  to  make.  But  Mr.  Addington, 
though  he  had  so  lately  declared  himself  to  be  “a  mere  locum 
tenens  for  Mr.  Pitt,”  now  showed  an  indisposition  to  go  out ; and 
Mr.  Pitt  was  quite  as  reluctant  to  come  in.  He  was  enfeebled 
and  subdued  for  the  time  — wanted  to  go  into  the  country  and 
be  quiet  — and  even  encouraged  Mr.  Addington  to  make  Peace, 
declaring  — what  was  indeed  true,  and  had  been  true  for  years 
past  — that  the  finances  of  the  country  required  it.  After  this, 
the  Premier  was  so  bent  on  peace  that  grave  apprehensions  were 
entertained  about  the  sacrifices  that  he  would  make  for  the  sake 
of  it : and  some  even  hoped,  as  a last  chance  for  the  national 
dignity,  that  Napoleon  would  assume  his  most  overbearing  man- 
ner ; a manner  too  overbearing  to  be  tolerated  even  by  an  abject 
minister  and  an  exhausted  people.  Before  March  was  out,  the 
court  ladies  were  enabled  to  whisper  that  the  Cape,  Minorca, 
and  Gibraltar  — which  Lord  St.  Vincent  declared  to  be  of  no 
value  — were  to  be  given  up.  Others  supposed  that  some  mark 
of  complaisance  to  the  Emperor  Paul  of  Russia  would  be  re- 
quired ; that  absurd  tyrant  whom  all  the  world  was  beginning  to 
1 Diaries,  iv.  p.  34. 


Chap.  II.] 


THE  EMPEROR  PAUL. 


45 


conclude  to  be  crazy.  In  February,  Paul  bad  ordered  his 
cruisers  to  take  all  ships  going  to  England.  In  March,  he  was 
moody  and  savage  about  England,  and  sequestrating  British  prop- 
erty as  fast  as  he  could  lay  hands  on  it,  in  prosecution  of  the 
quarrel  about  the  right  of  search  claimed  and  exercised  by  Eng- 
land, in  order  to  prevent  the  supply  of  naval  stores  to  the  vessels 
of  the  enemy,  — the  Northern  Powers  all,  at  that  time,  The  North_ 
leaning  towards  France.  The  hungry  people  within  ernConfed- 
our  island,  suffering  under  an  infliction  of  scarcity  of  ercLCy* 
several  years’  duration,  dreaded  the  closing  of  the  Baltic  ports, 
and  the  cutting  off  of  the  supply  of  corn  from  thence.  Before  the 
middle  of  March,  a fleet  was  sent,  under  Sir  Hyde  Parker,  to  the 
Baltic,  to  back  what  was  to  be  said  by  our  representatives  at  the 
Northern  Courts  about  the  late  treatment  of  the  British  in  their 
ports,  and  on  their  seas ; and  events  occurred,  even  before  the 
month  was  out,  which  settled  the  points  of  what  the  behavior  of 
the  English  should  be  to  the  Emperor  Paul,  and  what  access 
they  should  have  to  the  ports  of  the  Baltic. 

In  the  preceding  December,  Paul  had  issued  a challenge  to 
the  crowned  heads  of  Europe,  to  settle  their  disputes  The  Emperor 
by  single  combat  with  him,  each  being  attended  by  his  PauL 
Prime  Minister.  To  the  English,  the  idea  of  their  stout,  elderly 
sovereign  engaging  in  such  a combat,  within  closed  lists,  with 
Mr.  Pitt  for  his  squire,  was  so  ludicrous,  that  it  settled  with 
them  the  question  of  the  Emperor’s  sanity.  A succession  of 
whims,  some  of  humor  and  some  of  cruelty,  kept  up  the  impres- 
sion. As  the  spring  opened,  his  family  became  wretched,  his 
subjects  in  despair,  his  enemies  and  allies  perplexed  and  annoyed. 
As  for  himself,  he  grew  suspicious  and  alarmed ; and  it  is  be- 
lieved that  if  he  had  lived  another  day  or  two,  he  would  have 
shut  up  his  own  sons  in  a fortress.  On  the  night  of  the  21st  of 
March,  ten  persons,  who  had  resolved  that  such  a state  of  things 
must  be  put  an  end  to,  by  coercing  the  Emperor,  or  worse, 
supped  together,  and  drank  freely.  It  is  thought  that  they  did 
not  intend  to  murder  him  when  they  went  to  his  room  ; but  he 
was  dead  before  they  left  it.  The  Empress  Dowager  was  the 
only  person  who  seemed  to  reprobate  and  resent  the  act.  The 
next  morning,  the  people  were  seen  embracing  in  the  streets, 
and  shedding  tears  of  joy  ; and  the  intimations  to  foreign  courts 
that  a stroke  of  apoplexy  had  deprived  Russia  of  her  sovereign 
were  received  without  any  show  of  regret  elsewhere  than  in 
London. 

While  these  things  were  going  on  at  St.  Petersburg,  the  Brit- 
ish fleet  bound  for  the  Baltic  was  preparing  to  venture  the 
passage  of  the  Sound,  in  order  to  seek  a remedy  at  Copenhagen 
for  the  failure  of  our  negotiations  there.  When  Sir  Hyde  Parker 


46 


BATTLE  OF  COPENHAGEN. 


[Book  I. 


was  hesitating  whether  to  proceed  by  the  Sound,  under  the  guns 
English  fleet  of  Cronenburg  Castle,  or  round  by  the  Belt,  Nelson, 
in  the  Baltic.  the  second  in  command,  said,  44  Let  it  be  by  the  Sound, 
or  the  Belt,  or  any  way  ; only  lose  not  an  hour.”  By  the  Sound 
they  went  at  last  — on  the  30th  of  March  — before  the  death  of 
Paul  was  known  abroad.  The  guns  of  Cronenburg  Castle  did 
no  harm,  as  no  attack  was  made  from  the  other  shore,  and  the 
British  fleet  passed  safely  within  a mile  of  the  Swedish  coast. 
This  fleet  consisted  of  eighteen  sail  of  the  line,  accompanied  by 
frigates  and  smaller  vessels.  The  force  of  the  hostile  allies  was 
much  larger  — numbering  forty  sail  of  the  line  or  more  ; but 
everybody  knew  that  the  higher  naval  skill  of  the  British,  and 
the  union  of  their  fleet  under  one  command,  must  largely  com- 
pensate for  inferiority  of  force.  When  the  time  for  attack  was 
come,  Nelson  offered  to  go  into  action  with  ten  ships  of  the  line. 
His  admiral  gave  him  twelve,  remaining  at  the  entrance  of  the 
Sound  with  the  rest.  The  channel  was  narrow  and  intricate, 
and  the  Danes  had  removed  all  the  buoys ; but  this  was  not 
an  obstacle  which  could  deter  Nelson.  He  had  the  channel 
sounded,  and  new  buoys  placed,  by  daily  and  nightly  diligence, 
till  on  the  1st  of  April  his  ships  were  ranged  off  the  end  of  the 
shoal  in  front  of  Copenhagen,  ready  to  advance  the  remaining 
Battle  of  two  leagues  as  soon  as  the  wind  should  serve.  The 
Copenhagen.  next  morning  the  wind  was  fair ; but  the  pilots 
showed  themselves  unfit  for  their  office.  Nelson  always  after- 
wards said  that  it  was  the  unequalled  difficulty  of  the  navigation 
which  made  the  glory  of  the  victory  of  Copenhagen.  The  mas- 
ter of  one  of  the  English  vessels,  Mr.  Bryerly,  undertook  to 
lead  the  fleet,  and  removed  from  the  Bellona  to  the  Edgar  for 
the  purpose.  By  10  o’clock  the  action  began.  The  difficulties 
were  many  and  great ; and  no  fewer  than  three  of  the  ships 
presently  grounded.  The  indecision  and  delays  of  Sir  Hyde 
Parker  had  throughout  been  very  trying  to  Nelson,  who  felt 
that  on  the  immediate  action  of  this  fleet  depended  the  issue  of 
the  quarrel  between  Great  Britain  and  the  Northern  Powers. 
If  the  Baltic  allies  could  be  humbled  at  the  outset  of  hostilities, 
war  might  be  extinguished  on  one  side,  and  our  prospects  much 
improved  on  the  other ; for  there  was  no  doubt  that  the  North- 
ern Confederacy  was  instigated  by  France.  Seeing  this,  Nelson 
had  found  it  hard  to  bear  the  loss  of  time  and  appearance  of 
weakness  caused  by  the  indecision  of  his  superior  officer ; but  he 
had  more  to  bear  this  day.  At  the  end  of  three  hours,  when  the 
exterior  defences  of  the  Danes  were  not  yet  destroyed  ; when  he 
had  not  got  access  to  their  great  ships  ; when  signals  of  distress 
were  flying  from  the  mastheads  of  three  of  the  British  ships,  and 
the  three  which  were  sent  as  a reinforcement  could  not  make 


Chap.  II.]  HOW  NELSON  OBTAINED  VICTORY. 


47 


their  way  to  the  scene  of  action,  Sir  Hyde  Parker  signalled  to 
discontinue  the  engagement.  Nelson  knew  that  this  would  be 
ruin,  and  felt  that  all  might  yet  be  well.1  He  resolved  to  diso- 
bey. In  the  mood  of  sublime  jesting  which  heroes  now  and  then 
manifest  in  moments  of  exigency,  he  put  the  glass  to  his  blind 
eye,  and  turning  towards  the  reserve,  declared  that  he  saw  no 
such  signal.  He  kept  up  his  own  — that  for  close  action  ; and, 
as  he  hoped,  his  comrades  had  their  attention  so  closely  fixed  on 
his  proceedings  and  orders  as  not  to  observe  the  signal  of  the 
Commander-in-chief.  It  was  so  with  all  except  “ the  gallant 
good  Iiiou,”  as  Nelson  called  him.  He  was  so  placed  as  to  be 
compelled  to  see  and  obey  the  order  to  retire.  As  he  unwill- 
ingly withdrew  his  little  squadron  of  frigates,  sloops,  and  fire- 
ships, he  exclaimed,  u What  will  Nelson  think  of  us  ? ” But  a 
fatal  shot  in  a few  moments  ended  his  anguish.  None  of  the 
other  commanders  were  aware  that  they  were  fighting  against 
orders.  Before  two  o’clock,  the  Danes  had  nearly  ceased  firing  ; 
and  their  exterior  line  of  defence  had  surrendered. 

By  assuming  victory  at  this  moment,  Nelson  obtained  it.  The 
truth  was  that  the  Danish  line  was  uninjured;  and  that  his  own 
squadron  was  in  great  peril  from  the  difficulty  of  the  navigation. 
He  really  was  deeply  touched,  at  the  same  time,  by  the  gallantry 
of  the  Danes  who  remained  on  board  the  surrendered  vessels, 
who  were  fired  upon  at  once  by  the  batteries  on  shore  and  by 
the  British  ships ; by  the  latter  on  account  of  the  refusal  of  the 
conquered  to  be  boarded  by  the  boats  of  the  British.  Nelson 
went  to  his  cabin,  and  wrote  that  letter  to  the  Crown  Prince 
which  he  would  not  close  with  a wafer,  because  he  chose  to 
avoid  all  appearance  of  haste.  He  called  for  a candle,  and  made 
a large  seal.  This  letter,  sent  with  a flag  of  truce,  declared  that 
Vice-Admiral  Nelson  had  orders  to  spare  Denmark  w hen  resist- 
ance ceased ; 2 that  the  line  of  defence  had  surrendered ; but 
that,  unless  the  firing  on  the  part  of  the  Danes  was  stopped,  he 
should  be  compelled  to  burn  his  prizes,  without  being  able  to 
save  the  men,  whom  he  had  much  rather  consider  the  brethren 
than  the  foes  of  the  British.  In  half  an  hour,  an  answering  flag 
of  truce  arrived,  and  the  firing  ceased.  The  Crown  Prince  de- 
sired to  know  the  object  of  the  note  he  had  received.  The  repiy 
was  that  humanity  was  Nelson’s  object ; that  he  therefore  con- 
sented that  hostilities  should  be  suspended ; that  the  wmunded 
Danes  should  be  permitted  to  go  ashore ; and  that  the  rest  of 
the  prisoners  should  be  removed  from  the  surrendered  vessels 
before  they  w7ere  burned.  In  conclusion,  Nelson  declared  that 
he  should  consider  this  the  greatest  victory  he  had  ever  gained, 
if  it  should  lead  to  a reconciliation  between  England  and  Den- 
1 Southey’s  Life  of  Nelson,  ii.  p.  127.  2 Ibid.  p.  135. 


48 


ARMISTICE  AGREED  ON. 


[Book  I 


mark.  He  now  turned  over  the  negotiation  to  Sir  Hyde  Par- 
ker, and  lost  not  a moment  in  extricating  his  ships  from  their 
perilous  position.  His  own  vessel  and  three  more  were  aground 
on  the  shoal  for  many  hours.  As  he  left  his  ship,  he  observed 
that  he  might  be  hanged  for  fighting  against  orders ; but  he  did 
not  care.  Twenty-four  hours’  truce  were  immediately  agreed 
on;  and  this  set  him  comparatively  at  ease.  He  went  ashore 
to  confer  with  the  Crown  Prince ; and  the  people  received 
him  with  shouts  and  thanksgivings,  on  account  of  his  humanity 
to  the  conquered.  His  plain-speaking  to  the  prince,  while 
only  natural  to  him,  was  a better  policy  than  any  other  man 
coul  1 have  adopted.  When  asked  why  he  had  thus  forced 
his  way  hither,  and  given  battle,  he  said  it  was  to  crush  the 
Northern  Confederacy  ; and  he  pointed  to  the  minister  Bernsdorf, 
who  was  present,  and  accused  him  of  being  the  author  of  the 
Armistice  Confederacy,  and  answerable  for  the  mischief  that 
with  Den-  had  been  done.  In  the  course  of  five  days,  an  armis 
tice  of  fourteen  weeks  was  agreed  on  — the  terms  be- 
ing, of  course,  favorable  to  the  British,  without  any  new  infliction 
on  the  Danes. 

The  first  object  now  was  to  get  away  safely.  Sir  Hyde  Par- 
ker proceeded  with  the  least  injured  ships,  leaving  Nelson  to 
refit  the  others  and  follow.  The  dangers  and  delays  were  great 
from  the  character  of  the  navigation ; and  prodigious  was  the 
astonishment  of  the  Baltic  allies  when  the  British  fleet  emerged 
from  the  dangerous  channels  into  their  great  gulf.  The  Russian 
fleet  was  frozen  up  at  Revel.  The  Swedish  squadron,  consisting 
of  only  six  ships  of  the  line,  was  at  sea ; and  the  Commander- 
in-chief  went  in  search  of  it.  and  found  it.  The  Swedes  had  no 
chance,  in  the  absence  of  their  allies ; and  their  king  had  never 
liked  the  confederacy  he  was  compelled  to  join : so  there  was  no 
with  Swe-  difficulty  in  arranging  an  armistice  in  that  quarter  too. 

den*  Before  the  British  fleet  could  reach  the  Russian,  a 

messenger  from  the  Russian  ambassador  at  Copenhagen  over- 
took Sir  Hyde  Parker,  with  news  of  the  death  of  Paul,  and  of 
the  willingness  of  his  successor,  the  young  Alexander,  to  be  at 
peace  with  England. 

Sir  Hyde  Parker  thought  the  affair  now  virtually  concluded, 
and  turned  homewards.  Nelson  was  again  grieved  — grieved  at 
a precipitation  as  imprudent,  in  his  eyes,  as  the  former  delays. 
The  negotiations  with  Russia  had  still  to  be  transacted ; the  wind 
was  fair  for  Revel ; and  there  seemed  no  reason  why  the  fleet 
should  not  remain  in  the  Baltic,  to  keep  the  diplomatists  to  their 
business,  and  be  on  the  spot  in  case  of  failure.  He  soon  had  it 
all  his  own  way.  On  the  5th  of  May,  Sir  Hyde  Parker  received 
liis  recall,  and  Nelson  was  appointed  to  the  full  command. 


Chap.  II.]  PACIFIC  CONVENTION  SIGNED. 


49 


After  putting  a watch  upon  the  Swedes,  he  hastened  to  Revel, 
to  bring  the  Russians  to  a separate  account  for  the  injuries  which 
British  subjects  and  property  had  undergone  from  the  outrageous 
proceedings  of  Paul.  But  the  delays  of  the  late  Commander-in- 
chief  had  afforded  opportunity  for  the  Russian  vessels  to  get  out, 
and  repair  to  a safer  place,  where  they  could  be  protected  by 
the  batteries  of  Cronstadt.  Messages  of  distrust  passed  between 
him  and  the  Russian  government ; and  it  was  the  end  of  the 
month  before  the  Russian  admiral,  sent  to  sea  after  him,  to  offer 
amicable  explanations,  came  to  an  understanding  with  withRus- 
hirn : but  early  in  June,  letters  from  St.  Petersburg  sia* 
reached  him  at  Rostock,  which  granted  all  he  wished.  They 
declared  that  all  the  persons  and  property  seized  and  seques- 
trated by  the  late  Emperor  were  ordered  to  be  given  up  ; that 
the  late  misunderstandings  were  a matter  of  pure  regret ; and 
that  a visit  from  himself  would  give  great  pleasure  at  the  Court 
of  Russia.  Nelson  was  ill,  and  had  already  applied  for  leave  to 
return  home.  His  frame,  exhausted  by  the  wear  and  tear  of  his 
previous  service,  could  not  endure  the  climate  of  the  Baltic ; and 
his  return  was  a matter  of  life  or  death.  So  he  could  not  accept 
the  invitation  from  St.  Petersburg,  but  returned  home.  The 
mode  of  h s return  was  characteristic.  He  thought  it  even  now 
too  soon  to  weaken  the  Baltic  fleet  by  the  withdrawal  of  a single 
frigate  ; and  though  he  always  suffered  grievously  from  sea-sick- 
ness in  a small  vessel,  he  chose  to  come  home  in  a brig.  He 
quitted  the  Baltic  on  the  19th  of  June.  Two  days  pacific  con- 
before,  a pacific  convention  between  Great  Britain  and  vention' 
Russia  had  been  signed  at  St.  Petersburg,1  by  which  u unalter- 
able friendship  and  understanding  ” were  engaged  for,  and  the 
needful  specifications  were  made  about  the  conduct  of  commerce, 
about  the  limits  of  the  right  of  search,  and  about  the  mutual 
obligations  of  the  parties,  when  either  was  at  war  with  a third 
power.  Sweden  and  Denmark  were  invited  to  join  the  conven- 
tion ; and  they  were  very  ready  to  do  so.  Thus  terminated  the 
quarrel  with  the  Northern  Powers  ; and  thus  was  the  way  to  a 
peace  with  France  made  somewhat  more  open  than  it  could  have 
been  while  such  a contest  was  proceeding. 

The  two  immediate  causes  of  this  pacification  of  the  Baltic 
were  the  deatii  of  Paul  and  the  vigor  and  daring  of  Nelson 
before  Copenhagen.  The  sacrifice  of  life  in  that  battle  was 
called  great ; but  when  it  is  looked  at  as  the  whole  bloodshed 
of  a war,  it  appears  little  enough.  Of  the  British,  350  were 
killed,  and  830  wounded  (not  mortally).  Of  the  Danes,  1700 
or  1800  were  killed  and  wounded.  The  warfare,  short  as  it 
was,  was  regarded  with  deep  concern  by  all  right-feeling  men. 
1 Annual  Register,  1801.  State  Papers,  p.  212. 


VOL.  I. 


50 


EXPEDITION  TO  EGYPT. 


[Book  I 


The  Prince  of  Denmark  was  the  nephew  of  our  sovereign ; and 
the  friendship  of  the  two  countries  had  been  cordial  till  the 
entrance  of  Denmark  into  the  Northern  Conffderacy  changed 
her  into  an  enemy.  We  have  seen  what  was  the  gentleness  of 
Nelson’s  tone,  and  what  his  reception  when  he  went  ashore. 
There  was  thenceforward  a reciprocity  of  friendly  offices.  The 
Prince  sent  an  affectionate  letter  to  his  uncle,  George  III.,  by 
the  hands  of  Col.  Stuart,  the  British  military  commander  at 
Copenhagen,  on  the  opening  of  the  armistice  ; and  when  the 
embargo  was  taken  off  Danish  vessels  in  English  ports,  the 
expenses,  both  of  the  laying  on  and  the  removal,  were  defrayed 
by  England.1  As  for  the  naval  officers  commanding  in  the  Baltic, 
Sir  Hyde  Parker  requested  to  be  tried  before  a court-martial ; 
but  his  honor  was  not  considered  by  the  Admiralty  so  far  com- 
promised as  to  justify  such  a proceeding.2  Lord  Nelson,  from 
being  a Baron,  was  made  a Viscount.  Dear  as  he  had  before 
Nelson’s  been  to  the  nation,  he  returned  dearer  than  ever.  It 
return.  was  not  oniy  that  the  critical  battle  of  Copenhagen  — 
his  hardest-fought  battle,  as  he  called  it  — exhibited  most  re- 
markably all  his  finest  characteristics ; it  was  yet  more  that  his 
frustration  of  the  Northern  Confederacy  disposed  at  once  of  a 
whole  batch  of  enemies,  while  it  mortified  and  enfeebled  the 
arch-foe,  Napoleon,  and  so  brought  nearer  the  prospect  of  peace, 
for  which  the  people  were  sighing.  Nelson  found,  on  his  return, 
that  nobody  wanted  to  hang  him  for  gaining  the  victory  of  Co- 
penhagen contrary  to  orders. 

In  another  quarter  a victory  had  been  achieved  which  im- 
Expedition  proved  the  chances  of  peace  ; and  it  was  the  more 
to  Egypt.  gladly  hailed  because  it  happened  when  all  England 
was  looking  for  bad  news.  It  was  a great  object  to  humble  and 
overpower  the  French  in  Egypt,  lest  they  should  — as  had  nearly 
happened  the  year  before  — send  strong  reinforcements  to  Napo- 
leon. Sir  Ralph  Abercromby,  with  his  small  but  well-condi- 
tioned army,  had  been  sent  out  in  January  in  the  fleet  under 
Admiral  Lord  Keith.  While  they  were  waiting  in  a bay  of  the 
coast  of  Karamania  for  the  supply  of  horses  which  had  been 
promised  from  Constantinople  for  the  use  of  the  cavalry  and 
artillery,  four  French  vessels,  with  some  transports,  evaded  the 
British  cruisers,  and  landed  large  quantities  of  ammunition  and 
stores  at  the  mouth  of  the  Nile.  Then,  when  the  horses  arrived 
from  Constantinople,  they  were  found  to  be  such  miserable  beasts 
that  only  a few  could  be  kept  for  the  artillery  and  a handful  of 
the  cavalry ; and  the  rest  were  shot  or  sold  for  a dollar  a head. 
The  cavalry  must  serve  as  infantry.  Next,  it  was  found  that 
the  Turkish  force  would  be  all  hindrance  and  no  help  to  the 
1 Annual  Register,  1801,  p.  116.  2 Ibid.  Chron.  22. 


Chap.  II.] 


BATTLE  OE  ABOOKEER. 


51 


British  ; and  in  truth,  instead  of  an  effective  ally,  it  proved  to  be 
ill-equipped,  disorganized,  and  ravaged  by  the  plague ; so  that  a 
junction  with  it  was  by  no  means  to  be  desired.  At  the  same 
time  that  the  British  were  disappointed  of  this  expected  addition 
to  their  force,  they  discovered  that  the  French  army  in  Egypt 
was  more  than  twice  as  large  as  had  been  supposed.  It 
had  been  believed  to  have  undergone  a reduction,  by  various 
accidents,  to  about  14,000  men  : whereas  it  had  been  raised  by 
reinforcements  to  30,000,  with  1000  pieces  of  cannon.  Sir 
Ralph  Abercromby  had  not  more  than  half  this  number,  includ- 
ing the  sick,  and  some  unqualified  reinforcements  from  Malta, 
and  some  useless  followers.  His  effective  force  could  not  be 
reckoned  at  more  than  1 2,000.  The  nation  might  well  dread  the 
next  news  from  the  Mediterranean.  Another  disappointment 
was  not  known  at  home,  for  it  happened  at  the  last  moment. 
The  Turkish  ship  of  the  line,  which  was  to  have  brought  aid, 
was  dismasted  by  lightning.  The  British  commanders  defied 
not  only  all  these  fearful  omens,  but  the  warnings  of  the  pilots, 
who  declared,  in  the  midst  of  storms  which  appeared  to  warrant 
what  they  said,  that  it  would  be  madness  to  land  in  Egypt  before 
the  equinox.  The  landing  was  effected  on  the  7th  Landing  in 
of  March,  under  prodigious  difficulties.  The  soldiers 
were  crouched  down  in  the  boats,  with  their  arms  unloaded,  and 
were  exposed  to  the  fire,  of  cannon  first,  and  then  of  musketry, 
till  they  could  land,  form,  load,  and  push  on.  They  pushed  on, 
at  the  first  possible  moment  — the  first  2000  that  landed  ; and 
up  the  sandy  hills  they  went,  some  with  fixed  bayonets,  some 
even  on  hands  and  knees,  but  always  driving  the  French  before 
them,  and  securing  the  field-pieces  of  the  enemy  within  the  first 
half  hour. 

During  the  next  fortnight  there  was  some  fighting,  and  the 
fort  of  Abookeer  surrendered  to  the  British  ; but  the  Battle  of 
21st  was  the  decisive  day.  Before  it  was  light,  the  Abookeer. 
French  general,  Menou,  attempted  to  surprise  the  British,  at- 
tacked both  ends  of  their  line,  and  succeeded  in  creating  some 
disorder.  A part  of  his  force  got  to  the  rear  of  the  British 
infantry,  while  it  was  still  too  dark  for  the  attacked  to  distinguish 
friend  from  foe.  The  growing  dawn  soon  set  this  right,  how- 
ever. The  French  were  from  12,000  to  14,000  in  number,  and 
the  British  10,000.  In  a little  while  the  French  were  dis- 
persed all  over  the  field  — the  cavalry  broken  and  dismounted 
— the  infantry  pelted  with  stones,  when  ammunition  failed  — and 
several  hundreds  who  had  penetrated  into  an  inclosure  which 
formed  the  nucleus  of  the  battle  were  slain  almost  to  a man. 
The  whole  was  decided  before  ten  o’clock.  The  misfortune  of 
Sir  Ralph  Abercromby’s  professional  life  was  that  he  was  ex- 


52 


THE  FRENCH  EVACUATE  EGYPT.  [Book  I. 


tremely  short-sighted.1  He  felt  this  most  in  its  making  him 
dependent  on  the  officers  about  him.  His  friends  felt  it  also  in 
the  danger  to  which  it  exposed  him  on  the  battle-field.  He  was 
always  foremost  in  the  fight ; and  very  often  in  the  midst  of 
Death  of  Sir  Per^  which  the  most  courageous  avoid  by  merely 
Ralph  Aber-  seeing  where  they  are.  On  this  day,  he  was  sur- 
cromby.  rounded  by  the  French,  in  the  thickest  of  the  fight,  and 
received  first  a sabre  wound  in  the  breast,  and  then  a musket- 
ball  in  the  thigh.  He  took  no  notice  ; and  several  of  his  officers 
came  to  him  for  conference  and  went  away  again,  without  per- 
ceiving that  he  was  wounded.  It  was  the  trickling  blood  which 
betrayed  him  at  last.  When  all  was  secure,  and  the  entire  defeat 
of  the  French  ascertained  beyond  doubt,  the  old  hero  sank,  faint, 
into  a hammock,  and  was  carried  to  the  admiral’s  ship,  where 
he  died  on  the  28th  — well  aware,  it  is  hoped,  of  the  doom  of 
the  French  in  Egypt.  They  made  no  effectual  defence,  after 
the  battle  of  Abookeer ; and  when  sea  and  land  forces  were 
concentrated  against  them, — forces  from  Turkey,  from  India, 
French  from  Syria,  and  from  Great  Britain,  — they  yielded  at 

evacuation  all  points : and  Egypt  was  cleared  of  them  about  the 
of  Egypt.  same  time  that  the  Northern  Powers  were  signing 

o o 

their  pacific  convention.2  Parliament  voted  a monument  in  St. 
Paul’s  Cathedral  to  the  memory  of  Sir  Ralph  Abercromby ; and 
his  widow  was  made  a peeress,  with  remainder  to  her  two  eldest 
sons,  and  a pension  of  2000/.  a year. 

Thus  was  the  way  partly  cleared  for  the  peace  which  political 
observers  were  convinced,  so  early  as  the  opening  of  the  spring, 
that  Mr.  Addington  was  resolved  on.  In  March,  before  the 
recovery  of  the  King  had  advanced  far  enough  to  admit  of  his 
receiving  Mr.  Pitt’s  resignation,  strong  efforts  were  made  to  con- 
tinue Mr.  Pitt  in  office  ; but  both  he  and  Mr.  Addington  drew 
back  from  such  an  arrangement.  Whether  Mr.  Pitt  was  too 
proud  to  return  otherwise  than  by  the  entreaties  of  his  sovereign, 
and  Mr.  Addington  too  well  pleased  with  office  to  quit  it  so 
soon  ; or  whether  it  was  understood  between  them  that  the  new 
minister  should  make  a peace  which  his  predecessor  could  not 
consistently  propose,  was  the  great  political  riddle  of  the  day. 
Mr.  Pitt’s  On  the  14th  of  March,  Mr.  Pitt  delivered  up  the  seals.8 
resignation.  Within  a week  after,  elderly  retired  statesmen  were  in 
conference  about  the  danger  of  an  inglorious  peace,  — of  conces- 
sions incompatible  with  the  national  dignity,  — and  of  exciting  in 
the  people  expectations  of  relief  which  could  not  be  gratified,  as 
any  great  reduction  of  military  and  naval  force  was  a thing  not 
to  be  thought  of  while  Napoleon  was  still  in  the  fulness  of  his 

1 Journal  of  Sir  John  Moore,  in  Life. 

2 Annual  Register,  1801.  Chron.  18.  3 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  47. 


Chap.  II.] 


PEACE  ANTICIPATED. 


53 


pride  and  power.  In  the  midst  of  the  uncertainty,  Mr.  Fox  was 
rising  daily  — lifted  up  by  the  heaving  and  panting  desire  of  the 
nation  for  peace.1  We  are  told  by  Lord  Malmesbury  that  he  was 
“ quite  paramount  ” in  parliament,  and  used  very  odd  language 
there,  hinting  at  parliamentary  reform,  and  pointing  out  the  na- 
ture of  the  constituency  of  Old  Sarum,  — “ which,  in  fact,  con- 
sisted of  an  old  encampment  and  two  or  three  cottages.”  ’ Odd 
language  as  this  might  appear  to  statesmen  who  in  their  contem- 
plation of  politics  overlooked  the  element  of  the  people ; it  ap- 
pealed relevant  enough  to  the  millions  of  sufferers  from  the  pro- 
traction of  the  war,  who  felt  that  they  had  not,  and  could  not 
obtain,  any  representation  of  their  views  and  interests  in  parlia- 
Notices of  M.  Otto  now  occur  more  frequently.  M.  Otto  was 
the  agent  of  the  French  prisoners  in  England : a danger-  Anticipations 
ous  man  in  the  eyes  of  some  politicians,  but  nevertheless  of  Peace- 
often  now  dining  with  men  in  office,  or  in  the  friendship  of  the 
ministers.  As  it  became  known  in  whispers  that  Lord  Hawkes- 
bury  was  the  negotiator  on  the  British  side,  and  observed  aloud 
that  the  Premier’s  spirits  were  rising  every  day,  elderly  politi- 
cians became  more  and  more  alarmed ; for  Mr.  Adding-  Mr.  Addi 
ton  was  “ very  weak,”  and  Lord  Hawkesbury  was  no  t0Q- 
match  for  M.  Otto.  Throughout  the  summer,  however,  the  Pre- 
mier s spirits  continued  to  rise.  He  was  wont  to  call  this  the  hal- 
cyon period  of  his  administration.  Abroad,  our  way  was  clearing 
in  the  Baltic  and  in  Egypt.  At  home,  he  was  powerfully  sup” 
poited  as  yet  by  Mr.  Pitt ; and  his  pious  adulation  was  agreeable 
to  the  King,  who  commended  him  and  visited  him : and  the  Em- 
peror of  Russia  sent  him  a snuff-box  and  compliments  ; and  the 
people  cried  out  more  and  more  for  the  peace  he  was  going  to 
give  them ; and  there  was,  at  last,  an  abundant  harvest  Talk  ofia- 
once  more.  It  is  true,  there  was  talk  of  an  invasion  va»ioa- 
from  Boulogne  ; and  a great  display  of  preparation  was  ordered  ; 
and  Nelson  was  sent  against  the  French  flotilla.  But  even  Nel- 
son did  not  succeed  ; and  yet  people  were  so  little  alarmed  that 
the  Duke  of  York  could  not  visit  the  King  at  Weymouth,  be- 
cause it  was  so  difficult  to  keep  the  officers  of  militia  at  their 
posts,  and  to  convince  them  of  danger,  that  he  dared  not  absent 
himself  for  a single  day.  Probably  every  one  suspected,  what 
the  government  would  fain  have  kept  secret,  that  negotiations  for 
peace  were  going  on  all  the  while,  and  on  a footing  so  favorable 
for  Fiance,  that  it  was  not  likely  she  should  offer  violence  while 
she  was  on.  the  point  of  obtaining  what  she  wanted  by  merely 
asking  for  it.  I he  Prince  of  Wales  formally  requested  leave 
to  expose  himself  in  the  defence  of  his  country,  and  was  desired 
1 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  44. 


54 


PRELIMINARIES  SIGNED. 


[Book  I. 


to  keep  himself  quiet ; professional  and  commercial  gentlemen 
punctually  attended  drill ; and  Britons  sang  that  they  never 
would  be  slaves  ; and  foreign  newspapers  published  all  kinds  of 
speculations  as  to  the  issue  of  the  impending  final  conflict  of  the 
two  great  Powers  of  Europe  ; and  yet  the  Premier  expressed  in 
letters  his  grief  and  alarm  because  the  public  were  by  no  means 
alarmed  enough,  and  were  sadly  underrating  the  power  and  prow- 
ess of  the  foe.  There  was,  in  fact,  an  unreality,  that  time,  about 
the  threat  of  invasion  and  its  reception,  very  unlike  what  was 
felt  both  before  and  after ; and  the  explanation  was  soon  af- 
forded. 

In  the  middle  of  September,  Ministers  were  rather  grave  ; 
Peace  nego-  and  it  was  known  among  a few  that  Napoleon  was 
nations.  saucy,  and  Lord  Hawkesbury  embarrassed.  On  the 
29th,  the  Premier  was  in  such  unusual  spirits,  that  it  might  be 
supposed  that  all  was  settled.  On  the  30th,1  one  of  the  Ministers, 
conversing  with  an  old  political  friend,  went  over  all  the  affairs 
of  Europe,  including  those  of  Great  Britain,  omitting  only  the 
subject  of  peace  or  war  with  France  ; from  which  his  experienced 
Preiimina-  friend  concluded  that  all  was  settled.  On  the  next  day, 
ries  signed.  the  preliminaries  were  signed  in  London  ; and  the  news 
was  imparted  to  the  Lord  Mayor ; but  to  nobody  else  in  London, 
though  circulars  were  sent  to  many  provincial  towns.  Whatever 
difference  of  opinion  might  be  entertained  about  the  fact  of  the 
peace,  and  its  terms,  it  seems  as  if  all  reasonable  men  were  at  the 
time  ashamed  and  concerned  at  the  manner  in  which  the  fact  was 
received.  The  King  said  as  little  as  he  could ; but  there  is  a 
note  to  Lord  Eldon  which  shows  something  of  his  state  of  feeling 
Reception  by  about  it.2  He  speaks  of  the  embarrassed  situation  of 
the  King.  the  kingdom  from  its  experiment  of  peace  with  a revo- 
lutionary country ; but  hopes  that  with  a large  peace  establish- 
ment, and  the  Seditious  Meetings  and  Alien  Acts,  64  the  experiment 
may  not  be  attended  with  all  the  evils  that  some  persons  expect.’’ 
Lord  Eldon  himself,  though  obliged,  as  Chancellor,  to  defend 
the  peace  in  the  Lords,  wrote  miserably  to  his  brother  about 
the  state  of  mind  he  was  in  from  anxiety  about  this  matter.3 
By  states-  Mr.  Windham  would  much  have  preferred  invasion 
men-  to  this  peace,  even  as  he  would  take  the  chance  of 

a pistol  in  preference  to  that  of  a dose  of  poison.  Mr.  Pitt 
was  believed  to  have  counselled  and  superintended  the  whole. 
The  Premier  and  those  of  his  comrades  who  agreed  with  him 
were  in  a state  of  childish  exultation,  which  disgusted  moderate 
men,  who  saw  that  the  issue  must  for  some  time  remain  doubtful, 
and  that  there  was,  at  best,  much  to  regret  as  well  as  to  appre- 

1 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  62. 

2 Life  of  Lord  Eldon,  i.  p.  398.  8 Ibid.  p.  392. 


Chap.  II]  HOW  THE  NEWS  WAS  RECEIVED.  55 

hend.  As  for  the  people,  they  were  at  first  bewildered  with 
joy,  as  might  be  expected  when  told  to  exult  by  those  By  tho 
in  high  places  who  were  supposed  to  understand  the  Pe°Ple* 
prospects  of  peace,  without  having  known  much  of  the  personal 
privations  indicted  by  a state  of  war.  The  rise  of  Stocks,  the 
firing  of  guns,  processions,  illuminations,  and  addresses,  were  all 
that  the  complacent  Minister  could  have  desired ; but  the  hap- 
piness did  not  last  so  long  as  he  could  have  wished.  The  rejoic- 
ings began  on  the  10th  of  October.  On  the  12th  took  place  the 
ratification  of  the  preliminaries ; and  on  this  occasion  a scene 
was  witnessed  by  half  London  1 which  the  Ministers  did  not  hear 
of  till  it  was  too  late  to  interfere,  and  which  heartily  vexed  the 
more  able  and  moderate  among  them.  The  agent  sent  over  by 
Napoleon  was  Col.  Lauriston,  a young  man  of  Scotch  descent. 
The  people  were  in  a frenzy  of  delight,  unequalled,  it  is  said, 
since  the  Restoration  of  Charles  II.  They  crowded  to  the  house 
of  M.  Otto  ; and  when  the  French  officials  came  forth  to  repair 
to  Lord  Hawkesbury’s  office,  for  the  purpose  of  signing  the  rati- 
fication, the  crowd  took  out  the  horses,  and  drew  the  carriage 
through  the  principal  streets  of  the  West  End:  waited  while  the 
business  was  transacted,  and  then  drew  the  strangers  hack  again. 
Col.  Lauriston  gave  ten  guineas  to  the  people  to  drink  ; and  the 
sanguine  believed  and  said  that  the  English  hatred  of  Frenchmen 
was  over  forever.  — So  undignified  an  exhibition  was  painful 
enough  to  those  who  felt  the  terms  of  the  peace  to  be  humiliating 
to  England ; but  far  more  trying  was  the  demonstration  to  a little 
company  of  comrades,  then  in  London,  of  whom  nobody  B the 
seems  to  have  thought,  — the  French  emigrants.  French  emi- 
Some  of  the  Princes  were  there ; and  at  the  chapel  grants' 
and  school  at  Somers  Town  the  children  of  that  unhappy  family 
were  taught  that  their  adversity  was  only  for  a time ; that  royal 
ideas  and  feelings  must  be  nourished  and  cherished  in  them,  in 
perpetual  expectation  of  their  return,  by  the  generous  aid  of 
England,  to  throne  and  palace,  and  the  enjoyment  of  the  devotion 
of  the  penitent  French  people.  And  now,  in  the  midst  of  all 
this,  here  was  the  government  making  peace  with  the  usurper, 
without  a thought  of  Bourbon  grievances  ; and  here  were  the 
Londoners  paying  homage  in  the  streets  to  the  usurper’s  agents, 
who  were  conducting  the  business  ! To  the  exiles  it  seemed  as 
if  all  hope  of  order  and  royal  supremacy  in  the  world  was  over ; 
and  they  eagerly  seized  on  an  omen  of  retribution,  as  they  con- 
sidered it.  A tremendous  thunderstorm  burst  over  London  on 
the  night  of  the  illumination.  The  exiles,  in  their  melancholy 
homes,  were  told  what  had  happened  at  the  Admiralty.2  The 

1 Annual  Register,  1801,  p.  277. 

2 Ibid.  Chron.  278. 


56 


SOLE  HOPE  OE  THE  EMIGRANTS.  [Book  I. 


Crown  and  Anchor  were  drenched  ; the  lights  of  the  Crown  were 
extinguished,  while  those  of  the  Anchor  shone  out  again.  — It 
was  more  than  the  exiles  could  bear  to  remain  in  London  ; and 
they  removed  to  Holy  rood,  near  Edinburgh,  there  to  so’ ace  them- 
selves with  the  only  hope  they  could  now  lay  to  their  hearts. 
The  hope  was  that  the  unquestioned  dictatorship  of  Napoleon 
was  a preparation  for  their  own  return,  even  as  the  Protectorate 
of  Cromwell  preceded  the  Restoration  of  the  Stuarts.  Charles 
II.  could  not  have  been  recalled  during  the  existence  of  the 
Commonwealth,  nor  they  during  the  term  of  the  French  Repub- 
lic. Napoleon  was  now  their  Cromwell,  and  they  had  only  to 
watch  for  his  downfall.  They  could  hardly  be  angry  with 
George  III.  ; for  they  knew  he  could  not  help  himself  or  them. 
He  probably  accounted  for  the  act  to  them  as  he  did  to  others 
who  sympathized  with  him : “ Do  you  know  what  I call 

the  Peace  ? ” he  said  to  Lord  Malmesbury  : 1 “ an  experimental 
peace  ; for  it  is  nothing  else.  I am  sure  you  think  so ; and  per- 
haps you  do  not  give  it  so  gentle  a name : but  it  was  unavoida- 
ble. I was  abandoned  by  everybody  : allies,  and  all.”  It  was 
with  Pitt  that  they  were  most  offended.  He  had  coolly  declared 
reasons  for  superintending  this  peace  which  were  galling  to  them. 
He  believed  Napoleon  to  have  now  satisfied  his  vast  ambition  ; 
he  believed  that  it  was  the  need  and  desire  of  F ranee  to  be  tran- 
quil, and  to  enjoy  her  military  glory,  and  to  permit  her  extraor- 
dinary ruler  to  consolidate  her  power  by  the  arts  of  peace.  The 
irritated  exiles  had  not  to  wait  long  for  their  triumph,  as  far  as 
Mr.  Pitt  was  concerned.  Napoleon  presently  elected  himself 
President  of  the  Italian  Republics,  gained  possession  of  Louis- 
iana and  the  Floridas  across  the  Atlantic,  and  condescended  to 
annex  to  France  the  island  of  Elba  in  the  Mediterranean  ; all 
within  the  space  of  a few  weeks  ; so  that  within  half  a year,2 
Mr.  Pitt  was  prepared  to  acknowledge  himself  complete^  mis- 
taken, convinced  now,  as  he  had  been  formerly,  that  Napoleon 
was  an  insatiable  plunderer,  and  an  adventurer  incapable  of’  fidel- 
ity to  engagements,  and  in  every  way  unworthy  of  reliance.  To 
the  last,  Mr.  Pitt  defended  the  peace  on  the  ground  of  its  neces- 
sity at  home ; hut  never  more  on  the  ground  of  possible  amity 
with  Napoleon. 

Before  the  meeting  of  Parliament,  on  the  29th  of  October,  the 
terms  of  the  peace  had  become  more  widely  known  and  more 
calmly  considered  than  during  the  first  outburst  of  delight  at  the 
removal  of  the  hardships  of  war  ; and  the  consequence  was  that 
Ministers  could  not  meet  Parliament  altogether  so  cheerfu  ly  as 
they  would  have  done  some  weeks  before.  The  result  of  the  first 

1 Diaries,  iv.  p.  65. 

2 Ibid.  p.  67. 


Chap.  II.]  TERMS  OF  TREATY  OF  AMIENS. 


57 


debate  was  the  rise  of  a New  Opposition,  composed  of  a small 
number  in  each  House  of  men  and  weight,  and  of  ex-  By  Pariia- 
perience  in  office : the  Grenvilles,  Lords  Fitzwiiliam  ment- 
and  Spencer,  Mr.  Windham,  Mr.  Elliott,  and  others.  Mr.  Fox 
rejoiced  in  the  peace  because  it  was  necessary,  and  better  terms 
could  not  have  been  obtained.  Mr.  Sheridan  expressed  a wide- 
spread feeling  in  the  sentence,  “ This  is  a peace  which  all  men 
are  glad  of,  but  no  man  can  be  proud  of.”  On  the  whole,  it  is 
evident  to  the  reader  of  the  debates  of  that  autumn,  that,  by  all 
parties,  the  peace  was  considered  a precarious  one  ; a breathing 
time  secured  for  the  benefit  of  the  people  of  England,  and  the 
restoration  of  the  finances.  Depressing  as  was  this  conviction,  it 
served  at  once  to  moderate  the  boastings  of  the  makers  of  the 
peace,  and  to  subdue  the  lamentations  of  those  who  were  grieved 
and  ashamed  at  the  terms  of  the  treaty. 

By  these  terms,1  Great  Britain  gave  up  Egypt  to  the  Porte, 
the  Cape  to  Batavia,  Malta  to  the  Order  of  St.  John  Termsofthe 
of  Jerusalem,  and  all  the  French  colonies  she  had  cap-  treaty  of 
tured  to  France  ; and  she  acquired  Ceylon  in  the  East,  Atmens* 
and  Trinidad  in  the  West.  Even  these  humble  terms  were  in 
peril  many  times  before  the  Definitive  Treaty  was  signed.  In 
November,  Lord  Cornwallis  was  sent  over  to  Paris,  with  great 
state,  as  Ambassador  Plenipotentiary.  On  the  other  side  were 
Talleyrand  and  Joseph  Bonaparte,  for  whom  together,  and  per- 
haps separately,  Lord  Cornwallis  was  no  match,  either  in  vigi- 
lance or  experience.  He  found  himself  treated  with  suspicion, 
and  sometimes  with  rudeness ; and  it  was  no  easy  matter  to  sit 
by  placidly,  and  witness  the  assumptions  of  Napoleon  — as  of  the 
Presidency  of  the  Italian  Republics  — while  concluding  on  a 
peace  which  took  for  granted  his  quietude  and  moderation. 
Nothing  but  the  determination  at  home  to  avoid  war  could  have 
justified  the  prosecution  of  the  treaty  under  such  cir-  Definitive 
cumstances ; but,  as  it  was,  the  business  came  to  a treaty 
conclusion  at  last,  at  Amiens,  whither  the  negotiation  Slgned' 
had  been  transferred  from  Paris.  There,  the  respective  signa- 
tures concluded  the  Peace  of  Amiens  on  the  27th  of  March, 


1802. 

On  the  preceding  day,  the  Duke  of  York,  meeting  Lord 
Ma’mesbury  in  the  street,  asked  for  news.2  “ Peace,  sir,  in  a 
week,  and  war  in  a month,”  was  the  reply : a reply  which 
reached  and  pleased  the  King.  At  the  next  drawing-room,  he 
told  Lord  Malmesbury  that  he  believed  the  saying  would  prove 
a prophecy.  Amidst  the  existence  of  such  distrust,  and  its 
growing  prevalence,  the  country  could  not  enjoy  much  of'  the 
blessings  of  peace.  The  people  to  whom  it  was  most  essential, 
1 Annual  Register,  1802,  pp.  94-96.  2 Diaries,  iv.  p.  72. 


58 


DISTRUST. 


[Book  I. 


and  who  had  most  joyfully  hailed  it,  felt  nothing  of  the  confi- 
dence and  repose  which  it  had  promised  ; and  few  but  the  Min- 
ister remained  smiling  and  complacent.  In  him,  little  change 
of  mood  was  visible,  for  it  took  much  to  extinguish  the  smiles 
and  complacency  of  Mr.  Addington. 


Chap.  III.] 


CATHOLIC  DISCONTENT. 


59 


CHAPTER  III. 

Next  to  the  settling  of  our  affairs  with  foreign  Powers,  the 
greatest  subject  of  anxiety  to  the  government  was  the  . 

effect  of  the  Union  upon  Ireland.  When,  on  the  first  e mon‘ 
day  of  the  century,  the  bells  of  the  churches  rang,  and  the  Park 
and  Tower  guns  were  fired  as  the  new  Imperial  fag  was  hoisted, 
there  were  other  feelings  than  of  joy  in  the  minds  of  the  men 
about  the  throne,  though  a great  object  appeared  to  have  been 
accomplished.  On  that  day,  the  King  met  the  Chancellor  to 
receive  from  him  the  great  seal,  and  see  it  defaced,  and  the  new 
Imperial  seal  substituted.  The  Privy  Council  were  sworn  in 
anew ; and  proclamation  was  made  of  the  alteration  in  the  style 
and  title  of  the  sovereign.  The  word  Union  was  in  every  mouth  ; 
but  that  state  of  the  Catholic  question  which  has  been  already 
described  impaired  the  confidence  of  all  who  knew  the  circum- 
stances. No  one  doubted  that  the  intimidation  of  the  vice-regal 
government  by  the  great  dominant  families  was  over  ; and  with 
it,  much  jobbing  at  Dublin,  and  much  tyranny  on  their  own 
estates.  No  one  doubted  that  vast  internal  improve-  Discontent 
ments  would  take  place,  by  which  peace  and  prosper-  of  the  Cath- 
ity  among  the  people  would  be  promoted.  But  the  ollcs* 
great  religious  quarrel  was  becoming  more  formidable  than  ever. 
By  some  means  never  explained,  a paper  was  circulated  among 
the  Irish  Catholics  in  the  name  of  Mr.  Pitt,  in  the  issue  of  which 
he  had  no  share  whatever.1  It  appears  to  have  been  made  up 
of  parts  of  that  “ Letter  of  Lord  C ” which  has  been  re- 

ferred to,  and  of  statements  drawn  up  by  Mr.  Dundas  and  oth- 
ers, never  intended  for  publication.  The  “ Lord  C ” was 

Castlereagh,  but  understood  to  be  Cornwallis,  the  Viceroy  ; and 
the  rest  was  attributed  to  Mr.  Pitt.  This  paper  set  forth  the 
views  and  wishes  and  probable  conduct  of  the  Catholics  in  that 
style  of  freedom  which  might  be  expected  in  written  communi- 
cations among  public  men  of  the  same  way  of  thinking ; and  it 
was  wholly  improper  for  general  circulation  at  a time  so  critical. 
The  Catholics  believed  their  cause  secure,  thus  advocated  (as 
they  thought)  by  the  Prime  Minister  and  the  Viceroy ; while  at 
1 Lord  Malmesbury’s  Diaries,  iv.  p.  30. 


60 


IRISH  PEASANTRY. 


[Book  I 


the  same  moment  the  Sovereign  was  stiffening  himself  immov- 
ably against  all  concession  whatever.  The  danger  from  the  wrath 
of  the  deceived  Catholics  must  be  great : and  the  Union  opened 
under  the  gloom  of  this  misunderstanding. 

This  was  not,  however,  the  greatest  danger,  threatening  as  it 
Of  the  Re-  was.  The  worst  discontent  of  Ireland  at  this  time  was 
publicans.  not  immediately  connected  with  religious  feuds.  The 
insufferable  oppressions  which  had  caused  and  followed  the  rebel- 
lion of  1798  were  resented  as  vehemently  as  ever;  and  those 
who  had  desired  a republic  before  and  an  alliance  with  France, 
did  not  desire  these  things  the  less,  but  the  more,  for  what  had 
happened.  The  government  was  blind  to  this  danger  for  nearly 
two  years  after  the  Union  ; and  the  reason  of  this  blindness 
was  that  the  priests,  who  were  always  supposed  to  be  all-power- 
ful with  the  people,  were  as  fiercely  opposed  to  France  under 
Napoleon  as  the  Protestant  clergy  could  have  been.  Napoleon 
had  humbled  the  pride  and  restricted  the  power  of  Rome,  and 
the  Irish  priesthood  resented  this  in  a style  which  misled  the 
government  into  taking  for  granted  the  loyalty  of  the  Irish  people. 
Because  no  Catholic  rebellion  was  brewing,  statesmen  supposed 
that  all  was  well.  It  is  curious  now  to  read  the  correspondence 
which  passed  between  the  governments  in  London  and  Dublin 
in  1801  and  1802,  and  compare  it  with  the  state  of  the  country 
and  the  needs  of  the  people. 

The  fertile  parts  of  Limerick,  Cork,  and  Kerry,  and  elsewhere, 
Of  the  were  separated  by  vast  wildernesses,  where  no  roads 
peasantry  existed,  and  scarcely  here  and  there  a path.  Swarms 
of  people  lived  in  these  wilds,  like  rabbits  in  a warren.  Not  a 
plough  or  a cart  was  to  be  seen  for  many  miles  together ; and  the 
weed-grown  mud  hovels  of  the  inhabitants  could  scarcely  have 
been  discerned  by  the  stranger,  though  a hundred  might  be  with- 
in reach  of  his  eye.  But  few  strangers  ventured  there.  The  sol- 
diery and  police  could  make  no  way  ; and  they  knew  that  every 
man’s  mind  and  hand  were  against  them.  Such  districts  were 
always  the  hiding-places  of  smugglers,  thieves,  and  men  in  dan- 
ger from  society  ; and  now,  those  who  had  outlawed  themselves 
by  their  share  in  the  rebellion  of  1798  were  harbored  among  the 
wilds.  There  was  little  commerce  between  the  towns  and  the 
rural  districts,  to  bind  them  together,  and  create  mutual  interests. 
The  only  produce  of  county  Kerry  was  butter ; and  that  was 
carried  to  Cork  on  horseback.  The  proportion  of  inhabitants 
employed  upon  the  land  was  more  than  double  that  so  employed 
in  England  ; while  the  isolation  of  the  class  from  the  rest  of  the 
world  was  much  greater : so  that  wrong  ideas,  once  introduced 
among  the  rural  multitude,  were  irremovable ; and  the  temp- 
tation to  rule  them  as  slaves  or  banditti  was  as  strong  to  the 


Chap.  III.] 


GOVERNMENT  IN  IRELAND. 


61 


land-owners  and  the  government,  as  it  was  to  hot-blooded  and 
sanguine  patriots  to  make  them  tools.  Nothing  had  been  done  to 
remove  from  the  minds  of  this  portion  of  the  population  the  dis- 
contents which  had  exp’oded  in  rebellion  two  years  before  ; and 
they  did  not  know  that  they  had  anything  to  do  with  England 
but  to  hate  her.  The  Shannon  was  flowing  through  the  midst 
of  the  island,  ready  to  open,  with  a little  pains,  to  the  custom  of 
the  world,  2,000,000  of  acres  of  fertile  land ; and  nobody  stirred 
to  do  it.  The  local  authorities  had  decided  and  represented,  in 
1794,  that  the  thing  ought  to  be  done  ; but  nobody  was  stirring 
to  do  it.1  All  that  the  rural  inhabitants  knew  about  England,  or 
about  society,  was  that  it  hunted  down  smugglers  and  the  friends 
of  the  peasantry,  and  hanged  or  shot  patriots,  and  set  up  churches 
here  and  there  which  the  people  had  to  pay  for,  but  could  not 
enter.  The  small  manufacturing  and  commercial  classes  of  that 
day  were  troubled  in  their  own  way.  They  had  their  political 
and  religious  grievances  and  prejudices,  and  their  Irish  tempera- 
ment and  rearing,  — all  unfavorable  to  England.  — 

And  correspondence  with  the  Irish  exiles  in  France,  Temptatl0n8, 
and  solicitations  from  the  tempters  sent  (as  seems  really  to  have 
been  the  case)  by  Napoleon  to  stir  up  rebellion,  in  order  to  oc- 
cupy England  with  a civil  war,  kept  up  a constant  restlessness, 
excitement,  and  inability  to  acquiesce  in  any  kind  of  settlement, 
which  were,  unfortunately,  little  understood  or  apprehended  by 
the  government. 

Lord  Hardwicke  was  the  first  Viceroy  after  the  Union  ; and 
Mr.  Abbott,  afterwards  Lord  Colchester,  was  Chief  The  govern- 
Secretary.  Lord  Hardwicke  arrived  in  Dublin  in  ment- 
May ; and  for  a considerable  time  was  certainly  well  satisfied 
with  the  results  of  his  government.  He  endeavored  to  moderate 
violence,  and  keep  down  tyranny  wherever  he  saw  it,  and  to  do 
justice  impartially  ; and  as  he  found  the  Protestants  highly  polit- 
ical, and  the  Catholics,  for  the  most  part,  a quiet,  money-getting 
sort  of  people,  — like  the  Jews  or  any  other  class  under  perma- 
nent political  disqualification,  — he  was  naturally  popular  among 
the  Catholics,  and  less  liked  by  the  noisy  Protestants,  who  found 
themselves  no  longer  what  they  were.  He  and  the  Secretary 
thought  that  while  this  was  the  case,  all  was  well  ; and  they 
were  always  writing  home  that  it  was  so.  It  is  surprising  to 
read  their  letters  now  ; and  to  observe  how  they  endeavor  to 
vary  the  expression  of  their  assurance  that  all  was  quiet,  — the 
people  satisfied  and  happy  in  the  new  settlement,  and  every- 
thing sure  to  come  right  in  the  shortest  possible  time,  while  in- 
surrection was  preparing  in  the  towns,  and  the  rural  population 


1 Porter's  Progress  of  the  Nation,  i.  p.  26. 


62 


WRONG  IDEA  FROM  IRISH  QUIETUDE.  [Book  L 


was  too  barbaric  to  enter  into  the  question  at  all.1  The  govern- 
ment believed  itself  at  leisure  to  occupy  itself  with  military 
finances,  and  a system  of  checks  upon  military  expenditure,  and  a 
discrimination  between  the  offices  of  Lord-Lieutenant  and  Com- 
mander of  the  Forces  ; and  a distribution  of  forces,  in  case  of  a 
possible  invasion  by  and  by : and  again,  with  a plan  for  enabling 
the  University  of  Dublin  to  print  Bibles  and  Prayer  Books  ; and 
again,  with  plans  of  greater  weight,  — for  working  the  mines  of 
Ireland,  and  improving  its  inland  navigation.  Next,  the  patron- 
age question  occasioned  so  much  disagreement,  that  Lord  Ilard- 
wicke  was  on  the  point  of  resigning.  Amidst  the  controversies 
and  discussions  on  the  arrangement  of  the  executive  powers  and 
legislative  business  of  Ireland,  these  rulers  went  on  saying  that 
all  was  well,  and  that  nothing  could  be  more  rapid  than  the 
process  by  which  the  Union  was  producing  its  fruits.  During 
this  period,  however,  the  coercion  laws  under  which  Ireland  had 
smarted  from  the  time  of  the  rebellion  were  perpetuated : not 
only  was  the  Act  for  the  suppression  of  rebellion  renewed  in 
the  spring  of  1801,  but  that  for  the  continuance  of  martial  law. 
When  English  members  of  the  House  of  Commons  suggested 
that  no  country  could  attain  a safe  and  wholesome  condition 
which  was  under  a perpetuated  martial  law,  Irish  members 
assured  them  that  they  did  not  understand  Ireland : and  this, 
again,  could  not  tend  to  make  the  Irish  in  love  with  the  English 
connection 2 By  the  autumn,  when  peace  was  agreed  on,  the 
Premier  was  himself  disposed  to  disuse  martial  law  in  Ireland, 
and  to  promise  its  removal  on  the  signature  of  the  Definitive 
treaty. 

In  1802,  it  was  not  to  be  described  (the  ministers  said)  how 
Opinions  of  we^  everything  was  going  on.  Not  one  member  of 
the  govern-  parliament  lost  his  seat  in  consequence  of  having  ad- 
vocated the  Union  ; and  therefore  all  Ireland  must  be 
satisfied  with  it.  The  effect  of  the  presence  of  good  soldiery 
from  England  was  evident  and  remarkable ; their  discipline  was 
admired  by  the  people ; and  they  seemed  to  spread  quietness 
wherever  they  were  stationed.  This  was  probably  true.  In 
August,  1802,  however,  Lord  Redesdale,  the  Irish  Chancellor,8 
wrote  a letter  to  the  Premier,  which  indicates  that  the  security 
and  complacency  of  the  vice-regal  government  were  shaken  at 
last.  u When  I first  came  to  this  country,”  says  Lord  Redesdale, 
“ I was  induced  to  form  an  opinion  which  I communicated  to  you, 
that  it  was  approaching  rapidly  to  a state  of  quiet.  I am  ex- 
tremely sorry  to  say  that  I fear  I have  led  you  into  an  error  in 
that  respect.”  The  letter  goes  on  to  intimate  that,  amidst  the 

1 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  i.  p.  433.  2 Ibid.  p.  483.  3 Ibid.  ii.  p.  96. 


Chap.  III.]  .FRENCH  EFFORTS  IN  IRELAND. 


63 


apparent  tranquillity,  there  was  deep  disaffection  among  the 
lower  orders ; and  that  it  was  only  the  fear  of  consequences 
which  kept  them  from  breaking  out  into  rebellion.  It  needs  in- 
deed only  to  glance  at  the  chronicles  of  the  time  to  perceive  that, 
while  the  newspapers  were  boasting  of  the  results  of  the  Union, 
as  shown  already  in  an  improvement  of  manufactures  and  com- 
merce, which  would  place  the  Irish  high  among  the  nations,  the 
misery  of  the  peasantry  was  such  as  to  dismay  the  passing  trav- 
eller, and  the  violence  of  the  miserable  such  as  to  terrify  those 
who  saw  the  glance  and  heard  the  voice  in  which  the  threats 
were  conveyed. 

From  the  time  of  the  Peace  of  Amiens,  men  who  had  fled  to 
France  after  the  last  rebellion  began  to  drop  back  into  French 
Ireland  ; and  there  seems  every  reason  to  believe  that  tamPering. 
Napoleon  made  use  of  them  to  excite  a civil  war,  and  afforded 
them  aid  in  the  attempt.  An  unusual  number  of  Frenchmen 
was  observed  to  have  business  in  Ireland  towards  the  close  of 
1802.  They  were  sprinkled  all  over  the  island;  and  wherever 
they  were,  symptoms  were  observed  of  a secret  understanding 
among  the  peasantry ; and  night  meetings  in  the  wilds  became 
more  frequent.  An  odd  circumstance  caught  the  attention  of  the 
government  about  the  same  time.1  The  French  relatives  of  a 
gentleman  who  died  in  Ireland  during  the  war,  desiring  to  have 
an  attestation  of  the  fact,  sent  documents  to  a party  concerned, 
with  instructions  to  authenticate  them  before  the  commercial 
agent  of  the  French  government  in  Dublin,  M.  Fauvelet.  The 
reply  was  that,  after  the  most  careful  search,  no  such  person  was 
to  be  found ; and  yet  M.  Fauvelet  was  corresponding  with  his 
government  in  his  official  capacity,  and  dating  his  letters  from 
Dublin  at  the  time.2  Moreover,  a letter  from  M.  Talleyrand  to 
Fauvelet  was  intercepted,  desiring  him  to  obtain,  from  the  officers 
of  Customs  and  others  whom  he  could  converse  with  in  his 
commercial  character,  answers  to  a set  of  enclosed  queries,  about 
the  military  and  naval  forces  then  present ; and  also  “ to  procure 
a plan  of  the  ports,  with  the  soundings  and  moorings,  and  to  state 
the  draught  of  water,  and  the  wind  best  suited  for  ingress  and 
egress.”  The  date  of  this  letter  was  November  17th,  1802. 

By  the  close  of  the  year,  the  country  was  agitated  by  rumors 
of  a descent  upon  Limerick ; and  on  the  renewal  of  the  war 
with  France,  it  was  felt  that  now,  as  before,  Ireland  was  the 
way  by  which  the  enemy  might  best  hope  to  humble  England. 
Mr.  Addington  had  probably  no  more  cordial  well-wisher  than 
Napoleon ; not  only  on  account  of  his  general  feebleness,  but 
because  he  was  understood  to  remain  in  office  as  an  anti-Catholic 
Minister  — as  a Minister  who  made  loyalty  almost  impossible  to 
1 Annual  Register,  1802,  p.  196.  2 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  ii.  p.  164. 


64 


THE  EMMETT  CONSPIRACY. 


[Rook  L 


a vast  majority  of  the  Irish  people.  Napoleon  himself  however 
had  alienated  the  Irish  Catholics,  as  has  been  said,  from  the 
French  alliance.  The  projected  rebellion  of  1803  was  protestant 
and  republican  ; and  hence  it>  inevitable  failure.  Disaffected  as 
were  millions  of  the  Irish  people,  few  of  them  put  any  trust  in 
the  French-Irish  leaders  who  proposed  to  direct  the  prevalent 
discontent,  or  cared  for  a republican  form  of  government.  Hence 
the  impotent  character  of  the  catastrophe,  in  comparison  with 
the  amount  of  political  discontent. 

During  the  short  peace  of  Amiens,  some  of  the  educated 
Irish,  among  whom  was  Curran,  went  to  Paris,  full  of  sympathy 
for  the  French  republicans,  and  expecting  to  witness  there  such 
a state  of  things  as  they  desired  to  see  established  in  Ireland. 
Curran,  for  one,  was  grieved  to  the  heart  at  what  he  saw. 
u Never  was  there  a scene,”  he  wrote  to  his  son  in  October, 
1802,1  “that  could  furnish  more  to  the  weeping  or  the  grinning 
philosopher ; they  might  well  agree  that  human  affairs  were  a 
sad  joke . I see  it  everywhere,  and  in  everything.”  Some  few 
young  men,  however,  were  either  not  so  disabused,  or  they  hoped 
that  they  could  manage  things  better  in  Ireland.  Among  these 
was  one  who  is  Relieved  to  have  been  admitted  to  consultation 
with  Napoleon  himself.  The  Court  physician  at  Dublin,  Dr. 
Emmett,  who  was  now  just  dead,  had  had  two  sons,  who  were 
The  Em-  both  implicated  in  the  rebellion  of  1708.  Thomas,  the 

metts-  elder,  escaped  the  gallows,  and  was  now  in  America. 

Robert  was  under  age,  and  was  not  pursued  ; and  it  was  he  who 
now  saw  Napoleon,  and  became  the  head  of  the  new  conspir- 
acy. By  his  father’s  death  he  obtained  2000/.  or 

Plot  " ** 

3000/.,  which  he  devoted  to  his  political  purpose. 
His  papers  show  that  a rising  was  organized  throughout  Wick- 
low, Wexford,  and  Kildare,  as  well  as  in  remoter  districts;  and 
that  he  had  reason  to  rely  on  a very  extensive  support.  The 
same  papers  show  that  he  was  aware  at  times,  to  the  full  extent, 
of  the  risk  he  ran ; and  this  indicates  a fault  in  his  honor  which 
impairs  the  sympathy  that  would  otherwise  be  commanded  by 
the  lot  of  one  so  young,  so  benevolent,  and  so  ardent,  cast  into 
such  times.  He  clandestinely  obtained  the  affections  of  Curran  s 
youngest  daughter  ; and  deservedly  therefore  suffered  under  a 
restless  misery  of  mind  of  which  the  records  are  very  touching.2 
He  thanks  God  for  having  given  him  a sanguine  disposition  ; 
declares  that  to  this  he  runs  from  reflection  ; and  hopes  that  if 
he  is  to  sink  into  the  pit  beneath  his  feet,  it  will  be  while  he  is 
gazing  upwards  at  the  vision  of  his  hopes.  He  seems  to  have 
been  so  absorbed  in  his  visions  of  a Platonic  republic  as  never 
to  have  thought  of  the  wretchedness  to  others  that  he  might  be 
1 Life  of  Curran,  ii.  p.  206.  2 Annual  Register,  1803,  p.  303. 


Chap.  III.]  ITS  LEADERS  AND  PROGRESS. 


65 


creating ; never  to  have  had  a moment’s  remorse  for  renewing 
the  horrors  of  the  preceding  insurrection  ; never  even  to  have 
considered  that  it  was  a grave  offence  to  break  up  the  order  and 
security  of  social  life,  without  being  amply  prepared  to  substi- 
tute something  which  might  compensate  for  its  temporary  loss. 
But  if  he  did  not  suffer  as  he  ought  from  the  pangs  of  conscience, 
he  had  not  the  peace  of  the  calmly  devoted ; and  it  was  a mis- 
take to  endeavor,  as  some  do  to  this  day,  to  make  a hero  of  him, 
and  to  speak  of  him  as  noble.  As  he  slept  on  his  mattress  in 
the  depot  where  his  pikes  and  gunpowder  were  stored,  he  was 
as  much  of  a tool  as  they ; and  the  deep  compassion  with  which 
we  regard  such  a picture  of  Robert  Emmett  can  have  in  it  little 
mixture  of  respect.  He  never  breathed  to  Miss  Curran  a hint 
of  his  purposes  ; 1 and  it  was  on  the  eve  of  the  outbreak  that  he 
obtained  her  vows.  — The  other  leaders  were  a fanatic,  other  lead- 
named  Russel,  an  old  half-pay  officer,  who  was  expect-  ers- 
ing  the  Millennium,  and  desired  to  have  a share  in  bringing  it 
on  ; and  an  agitator,  named  Quigley,  who  came  over  from  France 
with  a full  purse.  Emmett  agitated  in  Dublin  ; Russel  in  the 
North ; and  Quigley  in  Kildare.  An  outlaw,  named  Dwyer, 
who,  with  a band  of  desperate  men,  infested  the  Wicklow  moun- 
tains, promised  his  aid  to  Emmett,  when  the  enterprise  should 
be  fairly  begun.  When  he  should  see  the  green  flag  floating 
over  Dublin  Castle,  he  would  bring  his  men  down  from  their 
mountains,  and  overawe  the  city.  It  was  at  Christmas,  1802, 
that  Emmett  came  over  from  France  ; and  the  swearing  in  of 
the  conspirators  presently  began.  Some  of  the  subordinates 
broke  their  oath,  and  gave  information  to  the  police  as  early  as 
February;  but  the  authorities  were  perplexed  by  the  frequent 
changes  in  the  plans  of  the  conspirators,  and  were  at  last  unpre- 
pared.— Lord  Hardwicke  thought  that  more  mischief  would 
be  done  by  alarming  the  country  than  by  letting  a contemptible 
plot,  as  he  considered  this,  come  to  a head.  He  satisfied  himself 
that  the  North  would  not  stir  : 2 he  believed,  with  Lord  Rodes- 
dale,  that  the  discontented  in  Limerick,  though  formidable  as 
banditti,  were  of  no  account  as  rebels  : he  caused  a force  of 
soldiery  to  be  sent  into  Kildare,  to  keep  order  there  ; and  he 
trusted  to  the  strength  of  the  Dublin  garrison  for  the  safety  of 
the  capital.  This  might  be  all  very  well ; but  some  incidents 
occurred  before  the  outbreak  which  should  have  suggested  im- 
mediate vigilance. 

On  the  14th  of  July,  the  anniversary  of  the  French  revolu- 
tion, the  orderly  citizens  of  Dublin  were  surprised,  0 

i t i*7-!!  i r.  Symptoms 

and  rather  alarmed,  by  the  strength  of  demonstration 

on  the  part  of  the  populace.  The  bonfires  were  very  numerous 

1 Edinburgh  Review,  xxxiii.  291.  2 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  ii.  p.  207. 

VOL.  I.  5 


66 


THE  RISING. 


[Book  I 


and  very  large ; and  a rabble  rout,  such  as  seldom  came  forth 
into  the  daylight  of  the  principal  streets,  danced  and  sang  and 
drank  round  them.  These  were  too  fair  a specimen  of  poor 
Emmett’s  forces.  — On  the  16th,  an  explosion  in  the  midst  of 
the  city  made  the  windows  rattle,  and  many  hearts  quake.  The 
gunpowder  in  Emmett’s  depot  in  Patrick  Street  had  blown  up. 
The  police  found  pikes,  and  preparations  for  the  manufacture  of 
gunpowder.  — The  conspirators  believed  that  they  had  misled  the 
police  about  how  such  things  happened  to  be  there;1  and  they 
were  confirmed  in  their  hope  by  the  quiescence  of  the  govern- 
ment ; and  especially  by  the  Viceroy  remaining  at  his  Lodge  in 
the  Park,  guarded  only  by  a sergeant  and  twelve  men,  and  by  the 
absence  from  town  of  almost  every  considerable  member  of  the 
government.  Still,  it  was  necessary  to  expedite  the  rising ; or 
Emmett  thought  so.  The  French  agents  begged  for  delay, 
thinking  the  prospect  desperate ; but  Emmett  pointed  out  that 
the  militia  would  soon  be  embodied;  and  the  haymakers  and 
reapers  now  thronging  into  the  neighborhood  of  Dublin,  would 
be  gone  home.  He  did  not  consider  that  these  country  forces 
had  no  common  interest  with  him.  They  cared  for  their  religion, 
and  he  was  Protestant.  He  wanted  a republic;  and  they  knew 
and  cared  nothing  about  such  things.  They  might  be  ready  for 
uproar ; but  by  no  means  for  achieving  a political  revolution. 
One  circumstance  which  determined  the  moment  of  rising  was, 
that  the  Eve  of  St.  James  fell  on  a Saturday,  this  year.  On  the 
Eve  of  St.  James,  the  people  dress  the  graves  in  the  church  of 
St.  James  with  flowers  and  green.  Numbers  would  be  abroad 
for  this  purpose  ; and  numbers  more  because  it  was  market-day, 
when  wages  were  paid  and  spent.  On  that  Saturday,  the  23d 
of  July,  the  outbreak  was  to  begin. 

It  began;  and  within  an  hour,  Emmett  was  a horror-struck 
fugitive.  In  the  evening,  the  inhabitants  of  St.  James’s 
Street  saw  some  men  distributing  pikes  among  the 
peasantry  who  thronged  the  streets.2  The  residents  put  up  their 
shutters,  and  barred  their  doors.  If  any  messenger  went  to  the 
barracks,  half  a mile  off,  where  there  were  4000  soldiers,  no  sol- 
dier or  police  appeared.  Presently,  at  dusk,  some  horsemen  gal- 
loped through  the  principal  streets  ; and  the  mob  grew  violent. 
A manufacturer,  named  Clarke,  who  employed  many  operatives, 
addressed  the  people  on  meeting  them  in  his  evening  ride  ; but 
they  would  not  listen  to  him  ; so  he  hastened  to  the  Cast!*,  to  give 
the  alarm.  On  returning,  one  of  his  own  men  brought  him  down 
from  his  horse  by  a shot,  which  was  severe  but  not  mortal.  At 
this  moment  a rocket  was  sent  up,  and  a cannon  fired  ; and  at  the 
signal,  Emmett  and  his  Central  Committee  came  forth  from  the 
1 Hansard,  i.  p.  740.  2 Annual  Register,  1803,  p.  504. 


Chap.  III.]  MURDER  OF  LORD  KIL WARDEN. 


G7 


depot.  The  leader  drew  his  sword,  and  put  himself  at  the  head 
of  the  rioters,  to  go  and  take  the  Castle.  But  they  would  not  go 
to  the  Castle,  nor  where  they  must  meet  the  soldiery.  They  shot 
Colonel  Brown,  who  was  going  to  his  post,  cried  out  for  plunder, 
mobbed  the  whisky  shops,  and  proved  themselves  so  ungovernable 
that  Emmett  and  his  comrades  left  them,  and  had  no  resource 
but  to  hide  themselves  among  the  Wicklow  mountains.  The 
rioters  shot  a corporal  on  guard  at  the  debtor’s  prison,  and  a dra- 
goon who  was  carrying  a message,  and  an  outpost  of  infantry, 
which  they  surprised.  — One  more  murder  they  committed  before 
they  were  put  down. 

At  about  ten  o’clock,  they  seemed  at  last  willing  to  do  what 
their  leaders  had  required  of  them  at  first  — to  attack  the  Castle. 
They  formed  in  a column,  and  had  passed  from  St.  James’s  Street 
into  Thomas  Street,  when  the  attention  of  some  of  them  was 
attracted  by  the  rapid  driving  of  a carriage  in  their  rear.  Some 
knew  the  carriage  to  be  that  of  the  Lord  Chief  Justice,  Lord  Kii- 
Lord  Kilwarden  — the  best  of  the  Irish  judges  — warden, 
mild  as  he  was  upright.  He  was  old;  and  he  appears  to  have 
been  so  far  shaken  by  the  horrors  of  the  preceding  rebellion  as 
to  have  been  in  constant  fear  of  his  life  for  the  intervening  five 
years.  Till  lately,  he  had  never  spent  a night  out  of  Dublin  dur- 
ing all  that  time.  Of  late,  he  had  gone  out  to  his  country-seat, 
nearly  four  miles  from  Dublin,  from  the  Saturday  till  Monday ; 
and  this  he  had  done  to-day.  In  the  evening,  reports  arrived 
that  an  army  of  rebels  was  attacking  Dublin.  If  he  had  remained 
quiet,  all  would  have  been  well  with  him ; but  his  only  thought 
was  to  take  refuge  in  Dublin.  He  desired  his  daughter,  and  his 
nephew,  a clergyman,  to  go  with  him.  There  were  two  ways  to 
the  Castle,  after  reaching  the  city.  If  he  had  gone  by  the  bar- 
racks, he  would  have  been  safe  ; but  he  decided  for  the  shorter 
and  more  populous  way  by  St.  James’s  and  Thomas  Streets  ; and 
thus  he  drove  into  the  very  midst  of  the  danger,  while  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  other  route  heard  nothing  of  the  riot  till  the  next 
morning.  — When  the  carriage  entered  St.  James’s  Street  at  one 
end,  the  mob  were  leaving  it  at  the  other.  They  turned  back, 
and  seized  upon  the  carriage.  The  Chief  Justice  declared  his 
name,  and  begged  for  mercy;  but  the  savages  said  they  must  kill 
the  two  gentlemen,  sparing  the  lady.  They  dragged  all  three 
from  the  carriage,  made  a way  through  the  whole  length  of  their 
column  for  the  frantic  daughter  to  escape,  and  thrust  their  pikes 
through  and  through  the  bodies  of  the  old  man  and  his  nephew, 
fighting  with  one  another  for  precedence  in  the  act.  Miss  Wolfe 
ran  through  the  streets  in  the  dark  till  she  found  herself  at  the 
Castle,  where  her  appearance  told  the  tale,  frightfully  enough. 
The  military  quickened  their  movements,  and  by  half-past  ten 


68 


FATE  OF  THE  LEADERS. 


[Book  I. 


were  down  upon  the  insurgents,  who  were  dispersed  without  a 
struggle.  Lord  Kilwarden  still  breathed ; and  he  lived  half  an 
hour  longer.  Mr.  Wolfe  lay  dead,  some  yards  from  the  spot 
where  the  carriage  was  stopped.  Some  one  said,  within  the  hear- 
ing of  the  dying  man,  that  the  assassins  should  be  executed  the 
next  day  ; on  which,  the  upright  Judge  exerted  himself  to  speak 
once  more.  “ Murder  must  be  punished/’  he  said  ; “ but  let  no 
man  suffer  for  my  death  but  on  a fair  trial,  and  by  the  laws  of 
his  country.” 

The  number  of  lives  lost  otherwise  than  by  murder  does  not 
Results  appear  to  have  been  ascertained  : 1 — nearly  twenty,  it 
is  said,  of  soldiers  and  volunteers,  and  probably  about 
fifty  of  the  insurgents.  An  escaped  prisoner  of  the  rebels,  who 
had  been  shut  up  in  the  depot  after  the  explosion,  showed  the 
way ; and  the  lane  leading  to  it  was  found  strewed  with  pikes. 
Within,  were  stores  of  ball  cartridges,  hand-grenades,  powder, 
some  uniforms,  and  a batch  of  printed  sheets,  wet  from  the  press, 
which  bore  the  proclamation  of  the  Provisional  Government ; of 
those  lost  men  who  were  now  pressing  on  towards  the  Wicklow 
mountains,  to  hide  themselves  from  pursuit.  These  ill-judging 
leaders  pretended  in  their  wandering  to  be  French  officers  ; and 
the  consequence  was  that  the  Catholic  peasantry,  who  hated  the 
French  for  the  Pope’s  sake,  would  have  nothing  to  say  to  them. 
Poor  Emmett  might  have  escaped  by  sea,  but  he  could  not  go  till 
he  had  once  more  seen  Sarah  Curran.  He  stole  back  into  Dub- 
lin, and  was  apprehended  near  her  residence.  It  was  not  till  now 
that  her  afflicted  father  knew  of  the  attachment.2  In  letters, 
written  immediately  before  his  execution,  Emmett  acknowledged 
his  misconduct  in  regard  to  the  Currans.  He  met  his  death  with 
composure.  His  epitaph  is  known  to  all  as  Moore’s  mournful 
song,  “ 0 ! breathe  not  his  name.”  Sarah  Curran  died  of  linger- 
ing heart-break.  Most  of  the  leaders  of  the  enterprise  were  ap- 
prehended, and  some  hanged.  Russel  was  executed.  Quigley 
was  exiled,  after  making  a full  confession. 

This  rebellion  is  sometimes  called  insignificant ; or  it  is  said  to 
be  rendered  important  only  by  the  murder  of  Lord  Kilwarden. 
But  the  truest  and  most  intelligent  friends  of  Ireland  saw  the 
matter  very  differently  ; and  the  survivors  of  them  hold  their 
opinion  to  this  day.  This  outbreak  disclosed  (by  means  of  the 
documents  that  were  seized  in  consequence)  an  amount  and  ex- 
tent of  Irish  discontent  of  which  the  most  clear-sighted  had  before 
been  unaware.  The  outbreak  rudely  checked  the  course  of  im- 
provement which  had  obviously  made  a fair  start  after  the  Union  ; 
and  the  event  and  the  documents  together  brought  on  a new’ 

1 Annual  Register,  1803,  p.  308. 

2 Life  of  Curran,  ii.  pp.  235,  238. 


Chap.  IIL]  RESULTS  OF  THE  REBELLION. 


69 


series  of  Coercion  Acts,  under  which  few  of  the  objects  of  the 
Union  could  go  forward  at  all. 

On  the  28th  of  July  — at  the  earliest  moment,  in  those  days 
of  a slow  post  — the  King  sent  down  a message  to  par-  Coercion 
Lament,1  notifying  that  insurrection  had  again  appeared 
in  Ireland,  and  expressing  his  reliance  that  parliament  would  take 
measures  for  protecting  the  innocent,  and  restoring  tranquillity. 
Two  bills  were  immediately  brought  into  the  Commons  ; one  for 
the  suspension  of  the  Habeas  Corpus  in  Ireland,  and  the  other 
for  enabling  the  Viceroy  to  try  the  prisoners  by  martial  law. 
Both  bills  were  passed  through  all  their  stages  in  the  Commons 
before  ten  o’clock  the  same  night ; and  in  the  Lords  before 
eleven  ; the  standing  orders,  which  would  have  caused  delay, 
being  suspended  in  consideration  of  the  emergency.  When  par- 
liament reassembled  on  the  2 2d  of  November,  the  royal  Speech 
announced  that  the  Irish  conspirators 2 had  been  brought  to  jus- 
tice ; and  one  of  the  earliest  acts  of  the  session  was  to  renew 
the  term  of  operation  of  the  coercion  bills  of  July.  Year  after 
year  was  the  coercion  continued  ; and  mournful  was  the  state  of 
the  unhappy  country  where  all  was  to  have  gone  on  well  after 
the  Union. — In  1803,  Lord  Redesdale,  the  Chancellor,  wrote 
letters  to  Lord  Fingall,  about  the  Catholics,  which  by  some 
means  became  public  in  January,  1804.3  In  these  letters  were 
contained  insults  to  the  Catholic  body,  doubts  of  the  catholics 
loyalty  of  the  most  eminent  Catholic  gentlemen,  and  stirred  up* 
prejudices  on  the  whole  subject  so  injurious  as  to  cause  shame 
among  friends  of  the  government  that  the  second  functionary  in 
Ireland  should  so  feel  and  so  speak  about  the  great  majority  of 
the  population  of  the  island ; and  at  a moment,  too,  when,  in  con- 
sideration of  the  anxieties  of  the  State,  the  leading  Catholics  had 
declined  to  urge  their  claims  at  present.  The  popular  exaspera- 
tion was  naturally  strong.  The  Catholic  question,  before  in 
abeyance,  was  revived  in  full  force  ; and  it  required  all  the  popu- 
larity of  Lord  Hardwicke,  and  all  the  efforts  of  the  Catholic  lead- 
ers, to  secure  the  quietness  of  the  public  meetings  held  through- 
out 1804.  Then  ensued  grievous  distress  to  all  classes  currency 
from  the  disappearance  of  the  metallic  currency.  The  troubles- 
Bank  Restriction  Act  of  1797  had  extended  to  Ireland;  but 
there  was  not,  as  in  England,  any  supervision  of  the  issues  of 
the  Bank,  or  any  check  to  private  banking.  The  insecure  state 
of  the  country  caused  a hoarding  of  the  metals,  at  the  very  time 
that  the  island  was  flooded  with  paper  money.  Country  banks 
gave  out  notes  down  to  the  value  of  half-a-erown  ; a spurious 
coinage  of  flat  morsels  of  silver  was  current  for  a time  ; but  it 

1 Annual  Register,  1803.  Chron.  p.  414.  2 Hansard,  i.  p.  2. 

8 Ibid.  ii.  p.  151. 


70 


THE  NEW  VICEROY. 


[Book  L 


was  suddenly  refused  at  the  post-office,  and  other  government 
offices  ; and  then  tradesmen  would  not  take  it.  The  perplexity 
and  distress  of  the  people  were  extreme ; and  military  guards 
were  set  on  the  bakers’  shops,  and  other  places  of  trade.1  Be- 
fore the  public  peace  was  fatally  broken,  government  provided  a 
costly  supply  of  dollars  and  halfpence  in  rolls,2  and  authorized 
silversmiths  to  issue  silver  tokens,  and  opened  an  office  for  the 
reception  of  depreciated  money.  At  the  same  time,  employers 
paid  their  workmen  by  orders  on  the  baker  or  other  tradesmen. 
Riot  was  thus  obviated,  though  very  barely  ; but  the  manufactur- 
ing and  commercial,  and  other  social  progress  hoped  for  from  the 
Union,  was  grievously  retarded. 

In  1805,  the  continued  suspension  of  the  Habeas  Corpus  in 
Ireland  was  resolved  on  by  large  majorities  in  parliament,3  though 
the  tranquillity  of  the  country  was  declared  to  be  still  on  the  in- 
crease under  Lord  Hardwicke. 

In  1806,  when  parliament  had  again  rejected  the  petitions  of 
the  Catholics,  and  France  was  threatening,  and  all  was  going  ill 
on  the  Continent,  there  was  serious  fear  that  Ireland  would  make 
Duke  of  Bed-  common  cause  with  France.  But  she  had  obtained  a 
ford  vice-  ruler  as  mild  as  Lord  Hardwicke,  and  yet  more  favor- 
roy*  ing  to  the  mortified  classes  of  the  Irish  people,  in  the 

Duke  of  Bedford,  who,  by  a change  of  ministry,  became  Lord 
Lieutenant.  When  a wild  outlaw  force  committed  ravage  in  the 
north,  at  the  end  of  1806,  under  the  name  of  Threshers,4  the 
Viceroy  repelled  all  solicitations  to  obtain  and  use  Insurrection 
Acts.  He  declared  his  belief  that  the  existing  law,  properly 
administered,  would  suffice  for  the  protection  of  society  ; and  he 
proved  that,  in  that  case,  it  was  so.  He  did  what  one  man  could 
do  ; but  Mr.  Pitt  had  died  without  seeing  the  Catholics  righted. 
He  left  them  sullen  and  discouraged  ; more  ready  to  ask  than  he 
to  answer  how  far  his  expectations  of  salvation  to  Ireland  from 
the  Union  had  been  accomplished.  No  one  could  say  that  Ire- 
land would  not  have  been  more  wretched  without  the  Union ; but 
neither  could  it  be  pretended  that  it  had  proved  a cure  for  her 
woes. 

1 Annual  Register,  1804,  p.  150.  2 Hansard,  iv.  p.  599. 

3 Ibid.  iii.  pp.  336,  534.  4 Annual  Register  1806,  p.  263 


Chap.  IV.]  DOUBTS  CONCERNING  PEACE 


71 


CHAPTER  IV. 

It  has  already  appeared  that  the  first  wild  rejoicings  at  the 
promise  of  Peace  gave  way  to  misgivings  before  the  treaty  was 
actually  concluded.  Men  in  high  places  never  had  Precarious. 
much  hope  of  a lasting  peace  with  Napoleon;  and  ness  of  the 
when  their  doubts  were  necessarily  manifested  by  their  peace' 
public  acts,  men  in  low  places  were  at  first  exasperated,  and  then 
alarmed.  Soldiers  had  expected  to  be  sent  to  their  homes,  and 
never  to  leave  them  more  ; sailors  in  all  distant  ports  had  watched 
for  the  signal  to  weigh  for  England  ; merchants  and  tradesmen 
had  calculated  on  the  remission  of  war  taxes ; and  the  laboring 
classes  hoped  they  had  heard  the  last  of  press-gangs,  and  recruit- 
ing parties,  and  balloting  for  the  militia : and  when  disappoint- 
ment followed  immediately  on  the  announcement  of  peace,  there 
was  so  much  anger  and  fear,  that  it  did  not  appear  as  if  the 
national  happiness  had  as  yet  gained  much.  The  people  were 
told  to  wait  till  the  Definitive  Treaty  was  signed ; and  then, 
month  after  month  passed  on,  and  no  news  came  of  the  conclu- 
sion of  the  business,  while  reports  arose,  almost  every  week,  of 
impediments  and  misunderstandings  abroad,  and  want  of  cordial- 
ity among  statesmen  at  home,  which  made  the  future  as  doubtful 
as  ever.  — On  the  16th  of  November,  1801,  the  Chancellor  of 
the  Exchequer,  Mr.  Vansittart,  announced  to  Parliament  that  it 
was  thought  necessary  to  continue,  for  three  months  longer,  the 
military  and  naval  establishments  of  the  preceding  year ; for 
which  purpose  upwards  of  eight  millions  would  be  required. 
The  amount  was  to  be  raised  by  means  of  the  land  and  malt 
taxes,  and  a fresh  issue  of  Exchequer  bills.  The  militia  force 
was  to  remain  at  36,000,  till  the  Treaty  was  signed.  In  expecta- 
tion of  this  event,  parliament  adjourned  from  week  to  week,  till 
the  winter  holidays  were  over ; and  this  method  increased  the 
suspense.  News  arrived  that  a considerable  French  fleet  had 
collected,  and  had  shipped  25,000  troops.  It  was  declared  that 
this  fleet  was  only  going  to  bring  to  order  the  island  of  St. 
Domingo ; but  prudence  required  that  such  a force  should  be 
watched ; and  a British  fleet  collected  in  Bantry  Bay  for  the 
purpose,  was  ordered  off  to  the  West  Indies,  to  the  blank  dismay 


72 


THE  TREATY  SIGNED. 


[Book  I 


of  the  sailors.  They  asked  what  the  peace  was  for,  if  not  to  send 
Bantry  Bay  soldiers  and  sailors  home  ; and  they  refused  to  go  any- 
Mutiny.  where  but  to  England.  A great  impression  was  made 
on  the  minds  of  the  poor  fellows  by  their  admiral’s  (Admiral 
Mitchell’s)  reply  when  the  noise  of  the  mutiny  brought  him  on 
deck  of  the  Temeraire,  to  know  what  was  the  matter.  The  Cap- 
tain told  him  that  the  men  wanted  to  know  where  the  ship  was 
going  ; when  he  replied,  “ To  hell,  if  she  is  ordered  ; and  we 
must  go  with  her.”1  The  mutineers  were  tried  at  Portsmouth  ; 
and  when  their  doom  was  pronounced,  one  of  them  humbly  and 
sorrowfully  acknowledged  the  justice  of  his  sentence;  and  the 
others  solemnly  exclaimed,  “ Amen  ! ” Twenty  of  the  mutineers 
were  found  guilty,  and  eleven  were  hanged,  in  the  midst  of  the 
preparations  for  departure  to  the  West  Indies. 

When  expectation  was  almost  worn  out,  in  April,  the  news 
Signature  of  came  at  last ; and  the  illuminations  and  other  rejoic- 
the  Treaty.  ingS  were  renewed.  The  popular  jealousy  of  France 
seems  to  have  been  as  strong  as  ever,  judging  by  what  took  place 
before  the  house  of  the  French  Minister,  M.  Otto,  on  the  night 
of  the  illuminations.2  The  word  Concord  was  exhibited  in 
colored  lamps  over  the  door ; and  the  mob,  reading  this  “ Con- 
quered,” began  to  riot,  in  resentment  for  any  Frenchman  saying 
that  Britons  were  conquered.  Moreover,  the  G.  R.  was  not 
surmounted  by  a crown,  as  usual ; and  England  was  not  to  be 
supposed  republican : so  M.  Otto  bestirred  himself  to  give  orders  ; 
and  presently,  the  crown  appeared,  and  the  word  Amity  was 
substituted  for  Concord.  — The  income  tax  was  relinquished 
by  the  minister  in  the  same  month.  — The  last  stroke  was  put  to 
the  convention  with  the  Northern  Powers  ; and  the  people  had 
by  this  time  been  told  that  the  expense  of  the  armistice  had  been 
1,000,000/.  per  week.  — The  disbanding  of  the  militia  and  fen- 
cible  troops  took  place,  and  that  of  the  regulars  was  soon  to  fol- 
low ; the  Secretary  at  War  declared  the  peace  establishment  to 
consist  of  121,400  soldiers,  which  was  presently  announced  to 
be  reduced  to  little  more  than  70,000  ; and  in  June,  it  was  made 
known  that  the  French  government  had  at  length  chosen  an  am- 
bassador to  be  sent  to  London,  to  begin  the  new  era  of  peace. 
The  ambassador,  M.  Andreossi,  did  not,  however,  arrive  till 
November,  nearly  thirteen  months  after  the  signing  of  the  pre- 
liminaries; and  meantime,  affairs  had  assumed  an, aspect  which 
made  the  public  regard  this  arrival  as  nothing  better  than  a 
symptom  of  hope  that  peace  might  possibly  be  preserved. 

One  of  the  most  important  effects  of  the  peace  was  that  it 
Foreign  opened  opportunities  of  foreign  travel  to  Englishmen, 

travel.  and  permitted  an  influx  of  new  ideas,  and  an  enlarge- 

1 Annual  Register,  1802.  App.  554.  2 Annual  Register,  1802,  p.  181. 


Chap.  IV.] 


FOREIGN  TRAVEL. 


73 


ment  of  intellect  and  sentiment,  more  wanted  then  than  it  is  now 
easy  to  conceive.  The  elderly  people  of  our  time  can  scarcely  be- 
lieve now  that  they  ever  thought  and  felt  as  they  were  brought  up 
to  think  and  feel  about  foreigners  and  their  respective  countries, 
and  about  art  and  literature,  and  every  subject  on  which  we  have 
now  for  above  thirty  years  freely  communicated  with  continental 
nations.  We  find,  in  the  letters  and  diaries  of  fifty  years  ago, 
complacent  notices  of  the  good  effects  looked  for  from  the  new 
fancy  of  the  opulent  classes  for  seeing  the  beauties  of  our  own 
island.  <k  Am  I too  sanguine,”  writes  Francis  Horner  in  1800, 
“ or  am  I even  correct,  in  fancying  that  some  good  effects  may 
result  from  a fashion  which  carries  the  Edinburgh  citizen  to  the 
Lakes  of  Westmoreland,  and  brings  the  London  citizen  to  the 
Falls  of  the  Clyde  ? ” 1 After  the  peace,  the  “ fashion  ” grew 
more  earnest.2  On  the  day  of  the  proclamation  of  peace,  April 
29th,  official  notice  was  given  at  the  ports  of  the  kingdom,  that 
his  Majesty’s  license  was  no  longer  necessary  to  enable  British 
subjects  to  go  to  the  countries  of  the  Continent.  By  September, 
the  number  of  English  in  Paris  had  risen  to  12,000  ; and  greatly 
was  the  public  press  scandalized  at  the  fact,  and  at  being  com- 
pelled to  admit  it ; so  ashamed  were  the  insular  moralists  of  the 
day  at  the  curiosity  of  their  countrymen  which  could  lead  them 
into  the  midst  of  the  profanity  and  indecency  of  foreign  capitals. 
Such  were  the  notions  of  the  stay-at-home  people  of  fifty  years 
since  ; and  the  1 2,000  tourists  were,  for  some  time  aftur  their 
return,  regarded  with  mingled  envy,  admiration,  and  fear,  as 
having  ventured  upon  a very  pleasant  act  of  moral  rashness. 
When  some,  lingering  too  long,  to  enjoy  a little  more,  were 
caught  Lke  the  moth  in  the  candle,  they  were  less  pitied  than 
blamed,  as  scorched  moths  are  wont  to  be.  When  war  broke  out 
again,  and  they  were  made  prisoners  in  France,  the  virtuous 
at  home  said  it  served  them  right  for  having  left  their  country, 
which  contained  everything  that  was  good,  and  gone  to  look  at 
whatever  was  naughty.  But  the  people  at  home  were  presently 
the  better  for  the  travels  of  those  who  got  back  safely.  They 
saw  those  who  had  seen  Rome,  and  could  tell  what  it  was  to 
approach  the  Eternal  City.  They  heard  from  those  who  had 
been  no  further  than  Paris  of  the  statues  and  pictures  which 
had  been  brought  there  from  Italy,  and  of  the  new  ideas  to  which 
the  study  of  them  had  given  rise.  Short  as  was  the  peace,  all 
who  lived  among  the  educated  classes  in  London,  and  in  the  chief 
provincial  towns,  felt  as  if  some  ventilation  of  English  intelli- 
gence had  taken  place ; as  if  some  warm  breeze  from  a sunnier 
climate  had  entered,  to  whiff  away  for  the  hour  some  fogs  of 
insular  prejudice,  and  enable  the  children  of  the  soil  to  catch  a 
1 Menoirs,  i.  p.  120.  2 Annual  Register,  1802,  p.  3D6. 


74  FOREBODINGS  OF  WAR.  [Book  L 

far  glimpse  of  those  Alpine  summits  of  art  which  they  could  not 
approach,  and  must  presently  lose  sight  of  again. 

Parliament  was  dissolved  at  the  end  of  June,  in  order  that 
Dissolution  utmost  freshness  might  be  imparted  to  public  trans- 

of  Pariia-  actions  on  the  incoming  of  a new  period.1  The  royal 
Speech  breathed  confidence  in  the  national  resources, 
emphatic  approbation  of  the  parliament  which  had  sat  for  two 

sessions,  and  recommendations  to  cultivate  the  advantages  of 
. , . © 
peace.  Mr.  Pitt  was,  in  his  private  conversation,  as  sanguine  as 

ever  ; saying  to  Lord  Malmesbury,2  that  “we  had  a revenue  equal 
to  all  Europe,  a navy  superior  to  all  Europe,  and  a commerce 
as  great  as  that  of  all  Europe,  — and,  he  added,  laughingly,  to 
make  us  quite  gentlemen,  a debt  as  large  as  that  of  all  Europe  ; 
and  that  if  with  these  means  we  acted  wisely,  with  a just  mixt- 
ure of  spirit  and  forbearance,  and  could  protract  ” (defer)  “ the 
evil  of  war  for  a few  years,  war  would  be  an  evil  much  less 
felt.”  Men  were,  however,  beginning  already  to  doubt  the 
“ spirit  ” with  which  our  affairs  would  be  conducted ; and  to  feel 
that  France  was  requiring  a “ forbearance  ” which  no  fear  of 
the  “ evil  of  war  ” could  long  sustain.  There  was  so  large  an 
infusion  of  new  members  into  the  Commons  — no  less  than  184 
— that  no  one  could  be  sure  what  the  temper  of  the  House 
would  prove  to  be  ; but,  at  the  close  of  the  elections,  the  funds 
were  low,  and  an  acknowledged  apprehensiveness  was  abroad, 
Doubts  and  which  boded  the  renewal  of  war.  Confidence  was  not 
troubles.  improved  by  the  Premier’s  declaration,  on  the  24th  of 
November,3  in  the  debate  on  the  Address,  that  the  large  arma- 
ments twice  prepared  within  a few  months  were  not  owing  to 
any  danger  of  a rupture  with  France,  but  only  “ as  a means  of 
security,  best  calculated  to  preserve  the  blessings  of  peace.” 

In  the  “ Court  Calendar,”  prepared  for  the  coining  year,  Napo- 
leon was,  for  the  first  time,  found  in  the  list  of  the  sovereigns  of 
Europe ; 4 and  it  was  stated  that  he  u began  to  reign  ” on  the 
loth  of  December,  1799.  As  he  was  jealously  watching  public 
opinion  in  England  in  relation  to  himself,  this  was  probably 
gratifying  to  him  ; but  his  wrath  against  our  press,  and  his  ex- 
pression of  it,  were  now  rising  to  a point  which  seemed  to  render 
“ forbearance  ” scarcely  possible.  In  August,  the  “ Moniteur  ” had 
begun  a series  of  articles  against  the  English  press  with  which 
Napoleon  soon  implicated  himself.  Before  the  end  of  the  month, 
he  had  forbidden  the  circulation  of  English  newspapers  in 
F ranee,5  and  had  sent  the  police  to  all  cafes  and  reading-rooms, 
to  seize  such  copies  as  they  could  find.  In  November,  just 
while  Mr.  Addington  was  assuring  parliament  and  the  country 

1 Annual  Register,  1802,  p.  605.  2 Diaries,  iv.  p.  151. 

8 Annual  Register,  1802,  p.  467.  4 Ibid.  p.  471.  5 Ibid.  p.  440. 


Chap.  IV.]  WEAKNESS  OF  THE  PREMIER. 


75 


that  there  was  no  danger  of  a rupture  with  France,  the  Govern- 
ment journal  was  assuring  the  world  that,  as  regarded  England, 
“ France  would  remain  in  the  attitude  in  which  the  Athenians 
placed  Minerva,  her  helmet  on  her  head,  and  her  lance  in  her 
hand.”  The  First  Consul  had  some  advantages  over  Great 
Britain,  and  he  made  the  most  of  them.  The  Knights  of  St. 
John  could  not  manage  their  affairs  at  Malta,  nor  provide  a 
garrison  out  of  their  reduced  numbers ; and  the  British  garrison 
was  not  withdrawn  at  the  end  of  three  months  from  the  conclu- 
sion of  peace,  as  agreed  in  the  Amiens  Treaty,  because  the  real 
rights  of  the  Order  of  Malta  were  not  yet  ascertained ; and  if 
the  English  withdrew,  the  French  would  immediately  enter. 
Again,  the  British  government  interfered  with  French  aggres- 
sion upon  Switzerland  ; — interfered  abortively  ; and  thus  invited 
insult.  Again,  the  exiles  of  the  old  regime  were  received  and 
comforted  in  England ; and  by  his  complaints  about  this,  it 
would  appear  that  Napoleon  was  really  afraid  of  them.  Weaknessof 
While  all  this  bluster  was  going  on,  the  Prime  Minis-  the  Pre- 
ter  in  London  was  showing  himself  so  weak  that  men  mier* 
felt  that  a crisis  must  be  approaching.  He  exhibited  a Budget 
which  made  his  supporters  ashamed,  as  soon  as  its  errors  were 
pointed  out.  He  was  delighted  at  the  accession  of  Mr.  Sheridan 
to  his  party,  while  that  unprincipled  wit  was  “ quizzing  ” him 
daily,  everywhere  except  when  offering  adulation  in  tete-a-tetes  ; 
and,  at  the  same  time,  Mr.  Addington  could  with  difficulty  be 
made  to  see  that  he  had  lost  the  support  of  Mr.  Pitt,  without 
which  his  administration  must  presently  appear  as  incapable  as 
himself.  By  this  time,  the  whole  powerful  coterie  of  Mr.  Pitt’s 
friends,  including  the  Duke  of  York,  were  engaged  in  “ the 
game,”  as  Mr.  Canning  called  it,  of  restoring  Pitt  to  office,  as 
the  only  hope  of  saving  the  country,  whenever  that  war  should 
break  out  which  they  perceived  to  be  inevitable.  Single  inci- 
dents may  characterize  statesmanship  as  thoroughly  as  a course 
of  policy  ; and  we  meet  with  one  at  this  time  which  manifests 
Mr.  Addington’s  mind,  and  justifies  the  disgust  of  his  opponents, 
quite  as  effectually  as  the  Amiens  treaty  itself.  While  he  was 
exhibiting  a dishonest  budget,  and  sympathizing  with  the  bur- 
dened people,  and  coaxing  them  to  bear  new  taxes  by  promises 
of  a peace  which  he  could  not  preserve,  he  conferred  a sinecure 
of  nearly  3000/.  a year  on  his  own  son,  then  a boy  at  school. 
As  for  the  way  in  which  it  was  done,  it  was  thus.  Mr.  Adding- 
ton’s tutor,  Dr.  Goodenough,  appears  preeminent  in  adulation 
among  a set  of  singularly  obsequious  correspondents  of  the 
Prime  Minister.  During  this  year,  the  Prime  Minister  made 
his  obsequious  tutor  Dean  of  Rochester.1  The  sentimental  letter 
1 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  i.  p.  498. 


76 


FRENCH  DEMANDS.— PELTIER. 


[Book  I. 


of  thanks  which  the  new  Dean  wrote  ends  thus  : — 44  Excuse 
me  for  adding  one  other  word.  I understand  that  Colonel  Barre, 
Clerk  of  the  Pells,  is  in  a very  precarious  state.  I hope  you 
will  have  the  fortitude  to  nominate  Harry  to  be  his  successor.” 
This  was  a kind  of  fortitude  that  was  not  out  of  Mr.  Addington’s 
reach.  As  his  biographer  tells  us,  44  Mr.  Addington  did  nominate 
his  son  to  the  vacant  clerkship.”  Master  Harry,  then  at  Win- 
chester school,  became  an  office-holder  to  the  amount  of  nearly 
3000/.  a year  ; and  alas  ! Mr.  Pitt  is  found  44  rejoicing  most  sin- 
cerely ” that  the  Pells  are  so  disposed  of. 

Mr.  Addington  was  wont  to  say  in  after-years  that  the  ink  was 
scarcely  dry,  after  the  signature  of  the  treaty  of  Amiens,  when 
discontents  arose  which  perilled  the  new  peace.  On  the  24th 
of  May,  M.  Otto  told  Lord  Glenbervie  1 that  if  the  English  press 
were  not  controlled  from  censuring  Napoleon,  there  must  be  a 
war  to  the  death : and  in  the  course  of  the  summer,2  six  requi- 
French  sitions  were  formally  made  to  the  British  government, 
requisitions,  the  purport  of  which  was  that  the  press  must  be  con- 
trolled ; the  royal  emigrants  sent  to  Warsaw  ; the  island  of  Jer- 
sey cleared  of  persons  disaffected  to  the  French  government,  and 
all  Frenchmen  dismissed  from  Great  Britain  who  wore  the  dec- 
orations of  the  old  monarchy.  The  reply  was,  that  the  press 
was  free  in  England  ; and  that  if  any  of  the  emigrants  broke  the 
laws,  they  should  be  punished  ; but  that  otherwise  they  could  not 
be  molested.  The  government,  however,  used  its  influence  in 
remonstrance  with  the  editors  of  newspapers  which  were  abusive 
of  the  French.  Cobbett  was  pointed  out  by  name  by  Napoleon, 
as  a libeller  who  must  be  punished ; and  Peltier,  a royalist  emi- 
grant, who  had  published  some  incentives  to  the  assassination  of 
Peltier  ^ renc^  ruler,  or  prophecies  which  might  at  such 

a crisis  be  fairly  regarded  as  incentives.  M.  Peltier’s 
object  was  to  use  his  knowledge  of  the  tools  of  Napoleon,  and  his 
great  political  and  literary  experience,  in  laying  bare  the  charac- 
ter and  policy  of  Napoleon  ; and  he  began,  in  the  summer  of 
1802,  a journal,  the  first  number  of  which  occasioned  the  demand 
for  his  punishment.  He  was  prosecuted  by  the  Attorney-Gen- 
eral, and  defended  by  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  in  a speech  which 
was  translated  into  nearly  all  the  languages  of  Europe,  and  uni- 
versally considered  one  of  the  most  prodigious  efforts  of  oratory 
ever  listened  to  in  any  age.3  The  Attorney-General,  Mr.  Per- 
ceval, declared  in  Court,  that  he  could  hardly  hope  for  an  im- 
partial decision  from  a jury  whose  faculties  had  been  so  roused, 
dazzled,  and  charmed ; and  it  remains  a matter  of  surprise,  and 
not  less  of  satisfact  on,  that  amidst  the  popular  prejudice  against 

1 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  ii.  p.  153.  2 Ibid.  p.  154. 

3 Life  of  Mackintosh,  i.  p.  182. 


Chap.  IV.] 


FRANCE  AGGRESSIVE. 


77 


Napoleon,  the  popular  sympathy  with  the  emigrants,  and  the 
English  enthusiasm  for  the  liberty  of  the  press,  the  jury  should 
have  seen  their  duty  in  this  case.  M.  Peltier  was  found  guilty  ; 
but  the  Attorney- General  did  not  call  for  judgment  on  the  in- 
stant. War  was  then  — at  the  close  of  February  — imminent  ; 
and  the  matter  was  dropped.  M.  Peltier  was  regarded*  as  a 
martyr,  and,  as  far  as  public  opinion  went,  was  rather  rewarded 
than  punished  in  England.  He  was  wont  to  say  that  he  was 
tried  in  England  and  punished  in  France.  His  property  was 
confiscated  by  the  Consular  agents  ; 1 and  his  only  near  relations, 
his  aged  father  and  his  sister,  died  at  Nantes,  through  terror  at 
his  trial. 

By  this  time,  the  merchants  of  Great  Britain  were  thoroughly 
disgusted  with  France.  Not  only  had  Napoleon  pre-  French  ag- 
vented  all  commercial  intercourse  between  the  nations  Sessions, 
throughout  the  year,  but  he  had  begun  to  confiscate  English 
merchant- vessels,  driven  by  stress  of  weather  into  his  ports.  By 
tiiis  time,  too,  the  Minister’s  mind  was  made  up  as  to  the  im- 
possibility of  avoiding  war.  Plis  biographer  tells  us  that  his 
desire  through  life  was  to  be  “ peaceable,  gentle,  and  easy  to  be 
entreated ; ” but  that  in  October,  u even  his  sanguine  mind  was 
not  wholly  divested  of  anxiety.”  His  own  account  of  the  matter 
was  (in  a conversation  with  Lord  Malmesbury  on  the  19th  of 
February),2  that  his  intention  had  been  to  bear  all  obloquy  at 
home,  all  taunts  about  being  too  forbearing,  in  the  certainty  that 
France  would  presently  fill  the  cup  of  offence  to  overflowing; 
and  that  thus  Great  Britain  would  enter  upon  the  new  war  with 
a single  mind  and  a resolute  heart.  He  had  passed  over  all  acts 
of  mere  petulance  and  vulgar  spite,  and  had  waited  till  insult  was 
coupled  with  hostility,  or  with  hostile  declarations,  before  he 
moved.  That  time  he  felt  to  be  now  come. 

It  was  indeed.  Napoleon  had  published  a Report  of  an  official 
agent  of  his,  Sebastiani,  who  had  explored  the  Levant,  striving 
as  he  went  to  rouse  the  Mediterranean  States  to  a desertion  of 
England  and  an  alliance  with  France.  He  reported  of  the  Brit- 
ish force  at  Alexandria,  and  of  the  means  of  attack  and  defence 
there  ; and  his  employer  put  forth  this  statement  in  the  “ Mon- 
iteur,”  his  own  paper,  while  complaining  of  the  insults  of  the 
English  press  towards  himself.  Our  Ambassador  at  Paris,  Lord 
Whitworth,  desired  an  explanation;  and  the  reception  of  his  de- 
mand by  the  First  Consul  and  his  Minister  was  characteristic. 
M.  Talleyrand  smiled  at  the  youthful  ardor,  military  predilec- 
tions, and  intemperate  patriotism  of  Sebastiani,  declared  “ upon 
his  honor”  8 that  Sebastiani’s  mission  was  a purely  commercial 

1 Annual  Register,  1803,  p.  231. 

2 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  pp.  213,  214.  8 Ibid.  p.  200. 


78 


FRENCH  HYPOCRISY. 


[Book  I 


one,  and  that  whatever  he  had  learned  about  the  British  force  at 
Alexandria  and  elsewhere  was  for  his  own  amusement,  and  not 
at  the  bidding  of  the  government ; and  it  was  this  same  Talley- 
rand who  had,  a few  weeks  before,  sent  that  letter  to  Fauvelet  in 
Dublin  which  we  have  mentioned  as  having  been  intercepted 
during  the  progress  of  P^mmett’s  conspiracy.  For  some  time, 
Napoleon’s  temper  had  been  growing  so  fierce  that  his  servants 
stood  in  dread  of  him  ; and  foreigners  who  visited  him  thought 
him  actually  mad.1  His  conduct  on  this  occasion  was  more  like 
that  of  Paul  of  Russia  than  that  of  his  own  wily  Minister,  who 
thought  to  have  given  him  his  cue.  Andreossi,  in  London,  talked 
like  Talleyrand  ; gave  the  same  account  of  Sebastiani’s  Report ; 2 
declared  that  France  could  not  go  to  war;  that  her  army  were 
half  Jacobins ; that  the  nation  would  not  have  war ; and  that 
Napoleon’s  objects  were  purely  commercial.  Andreossi  said 
these  things  in  London  on  the  23d  of  February,  little  imagin- 
ing what  shame  his  master  had  been  casting  on  such  hypocrisy 
live  days  before  in  Paris,  by  means  of  a fit  of  passion.  He  sent 
for  Lord  Whitworth  to  wait  on  him  at  nine  in  the  morning  of 
the  18th;  made  him  sit  down;  and  then  poured  out  his  wrath 
“ in  the  style  of  an  Italian  bully,”  as  the  record  has  it : and 
the  term  is  not  too  strong ; for  he  would  not  allow  Lord  Whit- 
worth to  speak.3  The  first  impression  was,  that  it  was  his  design 
to  terrify  England ; but  Talleyrand’s  anxiety  to  smooth  matters 
afterwards,  and  to  explain  away  what  his  master  had  said,  show 
that  the  ebullition  was  one  of  mere  temper.  And  this  was  pres- 
ently confirmed  by  his  behavior  to  Lord  Whitworth  at  a levee, 
when  the  saloon  was  crowded  with  foreign  ambassadors  and  their 
suites,  as  well  as  with  French  courtiers.  The  whole  scene  was 
set  forth  in  the  newspapers  of  every  country.  Napoleon  walked 
about,  transported  with  passion  ; 4 asked  Lord  Whitworth  if  he 
did  not  know  that  a terrible  storm  had  arisen  between  the  two 
governments ; declared  that  England  was  a violator  of  treaties  ; 
took  to  witness  the  foreigners  present  that  if  England  did  not 
immediately  surrender  Malta,  war  was  declared  ; and  condescend- 
ed to  appeal  to  them  whether  the  right  was  not  on  his  side  ; 
and,  when  Lord  Whitworth  would  have  replied,  silenced  him  by 
a gesture,  and  observed  that,  Lady  Whitworth  being  out  of  health, 
her  native  air  would  be  of  service  to  her ; and  she  should  have 
it,  sooner  than  she  expected.  — After  this,  there  could  be  little 
King’s  Mes-  hope  of  peace  in  the  most  sanguine  mind ; and  the 
sage.  King’s  message  to  parliament  on  the  8th  of  March 

(unknown  to  Napoleon  when  he  thus  committed  himself)  told  the 
natives  what  to  expect.  France  had  in  February  resolved  “ to 

1 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  207.  2 Ibid.  p.  221. 

$ Ibid.  p.  222.  4 Annual  Register,  1803,  p.  376. 


Chap.  IV.]  NEGOTIATION  WITH  MR.  PITT. 


79 


keep  on  foot  500,000  men,  to  undertake  its  defence,  and  avenge  its 
injuries.”  On  this  8th  of  March,  the  King  of  England  informed 
his  parliament,1  that,  though  all  hope  of  peace  was  not  relin- 
quished, the  armaments  going  on  in  the  ports  of  France  and 
Holland  must  be  taken  as  suggestions  of  preparations  for  defence 
in  Great  Britain.  Jt  afterwards  became  clear  that  these  arma- 
ments were  really  what  they  pretended  to  be  — designed  for  ac- 
tion in  the  West  Indies  — for  the  reduction  of  St.  Domingo  ; but 
there  were  grounds  enough  for  proceeding  to  arm,  without  this  ; 
and  the  response  of  parliament  to  the  King’s  suggestions  was  as 
hearty  as  he  could  desire.  They  voted  an  addition  of  10,000 
to  the  naval  force  of  the  country,  and  the  calling  out  of  the 
militia. 

For  some  weeks  after  this,  there  seemed  to  be  a lull.  Napo- 
leon was  believed  to  have  given  orders  to  his  agents  to  ^ 

o e;  Interval 

temporize,  to  gain  time,  while  it  appears  to  be  estab- 
lished that  he  repeatedly  said  to  those  about  him  that  so  many 
factions  were  opposed  to  him  that  there  was  no  chance  of  inter- 
nal peace  but  by  making  war  with  England.  The  English  pub- 
lic grew  discontented  with  the  slowness  of  the  Ministry.  The 
blame  was  laid  on  Lord  Hawkesbury’s  feebleness ; 2 and  the  King 
sent  for  Mr.  Addington  to  complain  of  Lord  Hawkesbury’s  delays, 
and  of  his  inattention  in  not  duly  reporting  progress  to  his  sov- 
ereign. More  was  doing,  however,  than  the  world  was  aware 
of.  Negotiations  were  offered  for  Mr.  Pitt’s  return  to  power. 
Pitt’s  friends  grew  more  restless  every  day  in  the  prospect  of  a 
war,  to  be  conducted  by  an  incapable  Ministry ; and  it  is  evident 
that  Mr.  Addington,  with  all  his  complacency,  was  uneasy  under 
Pitt’s  silence,  and  absence  at  Bath,  and  obvious  slackening  of 
support.  It  was  clearly  Addington  who  made  the  first  Negotiati(m 
move.  For  some  weeks,  Pitt  appeared  to  his  friends  with  Mr. 
mysterious,  unaccountable,  and  distressingly  reserved.  Pltfc‘ 

He  was,  in  fact,  resolved  not  to  be  indiscreet  this  time ; but  to 
leave  all  that  he  could  (and  disclosure  among  the  rest)  to  the 
King.  The  negotiation  failed  because  Mr.  Pitt  considered  the 
talents  of  the  Grenvilles  indispensable  to  the  service  of  the 
country,  at  such  a time  ; and  the  existing  Ministry  would  not 
hear  of  admitting  them.  Pitt  and  Addington  were  separated 
further  than  before  by  this  business.  Their  accounts  of  what 
took  place  do  not  agree ; and  certainly,  the  inclination  of  those 
who  read  or  heard  the  respective  narratives  was  to  trust  Mr. 
Pitt’s  clearness  of  head  and  accuracy  of  statement,  rather  than 
Mr.  Addington’s.3  They  could  not,  for  instance,  in  the  face  of 
Mr.  Pitt’s  whole  conduct  during  the  winter,  credit  Mr.  Adding- 

1 Annual  Register,  1803,  p.  646.  2 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  248. 

8 Ibid.  pp.  181,  187. 


80 


NAVAL  PREPARATIONS. 


[Book  I 


ton’s  opening  assertion,  that  the  first  move  was  Mr.  Pitt’s.  From 
the  King’s  extraordinary  notions  of  Mr.  Pitt’s  insolence  in  regard 
to  himself  as  well  as  others,  it  appears  that  Mr.  Addington  had 
prejudiced  the  mind  of  his  sovereign.  No  one,  indeed,  should 
be  held  responsible  for  the  extravagances  of  that  infirm  mind ; 
but  it  is  evident  that  in  reporting  Mr.  Pitt’s  wish  to  introduce 
the  Grenvilles,  the  Minister  had  so  told  the  story  as  to  make  the 
King  fancy  Mr.  Pitt  a dangerous  liberal.  The  King  charged 
him  with  wanting  to  put  the  crown  in  commission  ; 1 and  with 
“ carrying  his  plan  of  removals  so  extremely  far  and  so  high, 
that  it  might  reach  Aim.”  When  Mr.  Addington  was  compelled 
by  pressure  from  Mr.  Pitt’s  friends  to  lay  the  letters  before  the 
King,  he  appears  to  have  done  that  in  his  own  way  too ; for  the 
King  told  Lord  Pelham,  “ I have  now  got  the  written  docu- 
ments ; but  I will  not  read  them,  nor  even  take  any  notice  of 
them.”  It  was  no  great  punishment  to  any  reasonable  man  to 
be  spared  from  serving  such  a master ; but  it  was  a serious  mat- 
ter to  the  country  to  be  in  the  hands  of  his  small-minded  and 
smooth  Minister : and  some  statesmen,  less  unbending  than  Pitt, 
lamented  that  he  did  not  come  in  under  Addington’s  terms,  in 
full  assurance  that  in  a short  time  he  would  have  everything  in 
his  own  hands.  But  Pitt  was  not  the  man  to  do  this.  The 
Duke  of  York  thought  both  parties  in  the  wrong,  and  lamented 
that  the  transaction  had  placed  Pitt  further  from  power  than 
ever ; and  this  lamentation  was  echoed  far  and  wide,  in  the 
alarm  of  renewed  war.  The  negotiation  and  explanations  con- 
tinued throughout  April ; and  it  was  the  more  easily  done  for  the 
absence  of  parliament  during  the  Easter  recess. 

On  the  4th  of  May,  the  naval  preparations  of  England  were 
Naval  prep-  discussed  in  parliament ; and  a shock  was  given  to 
arations.  public  confidence,  at  present  of  such  serious  impor- 
tance, by  an  instance  of  Mr.  Addington’s  weakness.  In  Decem- 
ber, he  had  said  in  parliament  that  fifty  sail  of  the  line  could  be 
prepared  for  sea  within  one  month  ; and  more,  if  necessary.2 
Now,  after  five  months’  interval,  and  two  months  after  the  royal 
summons  to  make  ready,  he  admitted  that  the  country  had  only 
thirty-two  ships  in  commission,  not  fit  for  sea ; and  that  when 
he  spoke  of  fifty,  he  meant,  not  that  they  would  be  manned  and 
ready  for  sea,  but  rigged  and  fitted  out.  What  the  national  feel- 
ing was  from  this  date,  and  earlier,  about  the  state  of  the  navy, 
we  shall  soon  have  occasion  to  see ; meantime,  it  did  no  service 
to  the  Ministry  that  some  of  its  adherents  mocked  at  the  naval 
force  of  France,  instead  of  being  able  to  give  a good  account  of 
our  own. 

In  the  midst  of  the  excitement  of  this  subject,  a sudden  check 

1 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  190.  2 Annual  Register,  1803,  p.  120. 


Chap.  IV.]  A HOAX.  — WAR  IS  DECLARED.  81 

to  the  national  apprehension  occurred.  The  morning  after  this 
debate,  between  eight  and  mne  o’clock,  a man  dressed  Hoax  on 
like  a government  messenger  arrived  in  vast  haste  at  London- 
the  Mansion  House,  bearing  a letter,  with  a huge  seal,  addressed 
to  the  Lord  Mayor  of  London.1  The  seal  looked  official,  and  the 
letter  purported  to  be  from  Lord  Hawkesbury,  the  Foreign  Sec- 
retary. It  declared  that  all  differences  between  Great  Britain 
and  France  were  settled,  and  that  the  terms  of  continued  peace 
were  decided  on.  The  usual  forms  of  official  communications 
were  so  exactly  preserved  that  the  Lord  Mayor  never  for  a 
moment  suspected  anything  wrong.  The  news  was  spread  by 
printed  notices  posted  round  the  Custom-House,  declaring  the 
embargo  to  be  taken  off  certain  ships  ; the  funds  rose  five  per 
cent. ; and  the  City  was  uproarious  with  joy  ; so  that,  at  last, 
the  news  reached  the  ears  of  the  Ministers.  It  was  about  noon 
when  a true  messenger  arrived  to  declare  the  whole  a hoax. 
The  people's  faces  fell ; the  funds  were  down  immediately ; and 
the  Stock  Exchange  was  closed,  the  Committee  resolving  that 
all  the  transactions  of  that  morning  were  vo:d.  It  was  a fraud 
on  the  Stock  Exchange,  vexatious  enough  in  every  way  ; but 
especially  impressive  by  showing  how  strong,  was  still  the  popular 
longing  for  peace. 

In  a few  days,  all  was  settled.  Lord  Whitworth  left  Paris  on 
the  12th  of  May;  and  at  Dover  met  General  Andre-  warde- 
ossi,  on  his  way  to  Paris.  On  the  16th,  it  became  clared* 
publicly  known  that  war  was  declared  ; and  on  the  same  day 
Admiral  Cornwallis  received  telegraphic  orders  which  caused  him 
to  appear  before  Brest  on  the  18th.  On  the  17th,  an  Order  in 
Council,  directing  reprisals,  was  issued  ; and  with  it  the  procla- 
mation of  an  embargo  being  laid  on  all  French  and  Dutch  ships 
in  British  ports.  The  naval  bounty  of  five  pounds  pfjr  man  was 
offered  on  the  same  day  ; and  death  denounced  against  every 
sailor  found  on  board  the  enemy’s  fleet.2  On  the  next  day,  May 
18th,  1803,  the  Declaration  of  War  was  laid  before  parliament, 
and  the  feverish  state,  called  peace,  which  had  lasted  for  one  year 
and  sixteen  days,  passed  into  one  of  open  hostility. 

The  reason  why  the  vessels  of  the  Dutch  were  to  be  seized 
with  those  of  the  French  was  that  Napoleon  had  filled 
Holland  with  French  troops,  and  was  virtually  master  an 
of  the  country,  giving  occasion  to  the  inhabitants  to  suppose  that 
he  intended  to  annex  it  to  France.  English  manufactures  were 
strictly  prohibited  ; and  the  whole  force  of  Dutch  soldiery  was 
employed  as  a Custom-house  guard. 

An  attempt  was  made  to  displace  the  Administration  by  means 
of  Resolutions  brought  forward  in  both  Houses  of  Parliament,8 

1 Annual  Register,  1803,  pp.  127,  385.  2 Ibid.  p.  388.  3 Ibid.  p.  650. 

vol.  i.  6 


82 


THE  MINISTRY  UNCHANGED. 


[Book  I. 


alleging  concealment  from  parliament  of  important  information, 
Position  of  and  disingenuous  and  weak  conduct  about  the  fulfil- 
Ministers.  ment  of  the  terms  of  the  treaty.  The  debates  were  long 
and  extremely  interesting.  That  in  the  Commons  was  rendered 
exciting  by  Mr.  Pitt’s  taking  part  in  it,  while  Mr.  Fox  and  his 
party  retired  without  voting.  Mr.  Fox  had  gone  too  far  in  prais- 
ing Mr.  Addington’s  pacific  tendencies  to  vote  censure  upon  him 
now,  though  he  could  not  but  agree  that  much  censure  was  de- 
served ; and  Mr.  Pitt  had  been  the  superintending  influence  of 
the  Ministry  when  it  was  first  formed,  though  he  had  for  some 
time  withdrawn  himself  visibly  from  such  responsibility.  Neither 
of  these  statesmen  could  vote  either  way  upon  the  condemnatory 
Resolutions.  So  Mr.  Fox  left  the  House;  and  Mr.  Pitt  showed 
the  peril  of  inducting  a set  of  fresh  men  at  such  a crisis,  and 
moved  the  consideration  of  the  orders  of  the  day.  Ministers 
could  not  rest  under  an  uncertainty  ; they  pressed  for  a decision 
on  the  Resolutions,  and  obtained  it.  Mr.  Canning  and  other 
friends  of  Mr.  Pitt  voted  against  the  Administration  ; but  it  was 
retained  in  office  by  a large  majority.  In  truth  the  way  to  power 
was  not  clear  enough,  for  any  man  or  any  party,  to  justify  the 
displacing,  at  that  moment,  of  any  existing  government,  on  the 
ground  of  misconduct  which  could  not  now  be  helped.  The  thing 
to  be  done  was  to  provide  for  the  vigorous  prosecution  of  the  war. 
The  King  was  not  backward  in  showing  his  humor  at  this  crisis. 
44  The  King  has  two  favorites,”  writes  Francis  Horner,1  at  this 
time;  44 two  favorites:  the  War  and  the  Doctor”  (Addington). 
44  But  the  Doctor  has  at  present  the  preference  ; and  even  the 
war  would  be  given  up  for  him.”  His  majesty  was  writing  sen- 
timental and  confused  notes  to  his  minister.  He  received  Lord 
Grenville’s  sister  so  rudely  at  Court,  that  none  of  the  ladies  of 
that  family  attended  the  birthday  in  June  ; and  he  passed  Mr. 
Pitt  in  the  park  without  notice.  Thus  Mr.  Addington  had  the 
whole  business  to  himself;  and  was  now  to  show  how  he  could 
govern  the  country,  and  conduct  the  defence  of  the  empire. 

He  was  not  practically  opposed  about  the  financial  part  of  his 
Preparations  plans.  He  brought  forward  his  Budget  on  the  13th 
for  war.  0f  June.  He  proposed  to  raise  six  millions  of  war- 
taxes  by  increased  customs  and  excise  duties  ; these  additional 
taxes  to  cease  six  months  after  the  conclusion  of  a peace.  The 
Livery  of  London  met  to  offer  generous  support,  trusting  that  it 
might  be  in  some  other  form  than  an  unequal  Income  tax;  but  a 
modified  Property  tax  was  presently  imposed.  The  Common 
Council  of  London  immediately  resolved  to  raise  and  equip  800 
men.  Meetings  were  held  in  towns  and  parishes  on  every  hand, 
to  pass  patriotic  resolutions,  and  agree  on  methods  of  defence. 

1 Memoirs,  i.  p.  221. 


Chap.  IV.] 


PREPARING  FOR  WAR. 


83 


At  the  anniversary  dinners  of  public  charities  “ TyrDenn  songs " 
were  sung,  which  intoxicated  the  company  more  than  their  wine. 
Princes  of  the  Blood,  lawyers  from  the  Inns,  bankers,  and  coun- 
try gentlemen,  as  well  as  tradesmen,  entered  themselves  as  Vol- 
unteers, and  drilled  indefatigably,  twice  or  oftener  in  the  day. 
The  subscribers  to  Lloyd’s  instituted  a fund  for  the  relief  of  the 
wounded,  the  solace  of  the  maimed  and  bereaved,  and  the  reward 
of  the  eminently  brave.  The  merchants,  hankers,  and  traders 
of  London  issued  a Declaration,  written  by  Mackintosh,  which 
stirred  up  a fine  spirit  in  the  country.  They  declared  that  the 
coming  contest  was  a struggle  for  national  existence  ; for  civili- 
zation against  brute  force ; for  all  that  Englishmen  hold  dear 
against  all  that  they  most  hate;  and  they  pledged  themselves  to 
exert  all  their  powers  to  rouse  the  country  to  its  defence,  and  to 
be  ready  with  their  services  of  every  sort,  on  every  occasion. 
The  walls  were  placarded  with  speeches  from  King  John  and 
Henry  V.,  and  even  Holla’s  speech,  signed  by  Sheridan.  The 
stories  of  the  invasion  of  Greece  by  Persia,  of  Holland  by  Louis 
XIV.,  and  of  England  by  Philip  of  Spain,  were  told  from  end  to 
end  of  the  country,  and  the  memory  of  Queen  Elizabeth  became 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  day.  In  the  London  ale-houses,  the  police 
spies  declared  the  spirit  was  good  ; and  along  the  coast,  the  in- 
habitants showed  themselves  to  be  awake  and  devoted.  At  such 
a time,  the  people  at  each  point  of  the  coast  are  certain  that 
theirs  is  the  spot  on  which  the  descent  will  be  made ; and  the 
play  of  passions  and  prejudices  is  seen  to  great  advantage  during 
a period  like  the  summer  of  1803.  In  some  cities  near  the  coast, 
the  Pittites  were  in  alarming  doubt  about  the  Foxites.  As  even 
Foxites  had  domestic  affections,  to  them  was  appointed  the  task 
of  arranging  for  the  removal  of  the  women  and  children,  on  the 
first  signal  of  the  approach  of  the  F rench.  They  were  to  number 
wagons,  and  bespeak  horses,  and  appoint  places  of  meeting,  and 
maintain  clear  roads,  while  the  loyal  kept  watch  on  the  cliffs,  and 
drilled,  and  set  guards  on  the  cathedrals,  lest  the  Dissenters 
should  take  the  opportunity  to  burn  them  down.  An  English 
nunnery  in  Dorsetshire1  was  searched  by  a clerical  Justice  of  the 
peace  and  his  neighbors,  in  July,  in  the  expectation  of  finding 
hidden  there,  not  only  arms  and  ammunition,  but  a brother  of 
Napoleon.  The  foreigner  was  looked  for  in  every  closet,  and 
corner  of  the  cellar.  The  abbess  reminded  the  Justice  that, 
while  the  sisters  were  Catholics,  they  were  Englishwomen,  as 
averse  to  foreign  invasion  as  their  neighbors.  — The  very  acci- 
dents of  the  time  show  the  spirit  of  the  time.  In  practising 
street-firing  with  cartridge,  a volunteer  wounds  his  officer.  The 
Law  Association,  in  Temple  Gardens,  charging  with  the  bayonet, 
1 Annual  Register,  1803,  p.  418. 


84 


THE  PRINCE  OE  WALES. 


[Book  I. 


stumble,  and  one  bayonet  breaks  in  the  ground,  and  another 
pierces  a coat.  A gentleman  kills  himself,  and  knocks  down 
others,  by  tiring  a musket  with  six  cartridges  in  it.  The  fashions 
of  the  time  smack  of  war.  The  drill-dress  of  the  University 
students  is  immortalized  in  the  chronicles  of  the  year,  — blue 
jacket,  black  gaiters,  and  all.  — The  reviews  and  presentations 
of  colors  were  a fine  spectacle,  that  summer  and  autumn.  The 
most  animating  was  the  Royal  review  of  the  Volunteers  in  Hyde 
Park  in  October ; and  a nobler  spectacle  can  hardly  have  been 
seen  in  our  country,  for  a thousand  years.  It  was  wholly  unlike 
an  ordinary  military  review.  The  sovereign  here  met  his  armel 
citizens  of  London,  to  see  how  fit  they  were  for  the  defence  of 
their  homes  and  their  national  institutions.  The  old  Kins:  con- 
ducted  himself  with  sobriety  and  dignity,  and  looked  kingly  on 
his  charger.  The  Duke  of  York,  the  Commander-in-Chief,  met 
him  on  the  ground ; and  the  Queen  and  her  other  children  at- 
tended him.  All  the  houses  within  view  were  crowded  to  the 
chimney-tops.  Amidst  the  sunshine,  and  the  martial  music,  and 
the  cheers  of  the  crowd,  there  was  a deep  solemnity  pervading  the 
whole  celebration.  — Such  incidents  as  have  been  related  show 
how  great  was  the  support  on  which  the  Minister  might  rely. 

The  eldest  of  the  princes  was  not  present  at  the  great  review : 
The  Prince  he  had  gone  down  to  Brighton  to  avoid  it ; but  he  was 
of  Wales.  not  therefore  inactive.  The  Prince  of  Wales  had 
begged  to  be  a volunteer,  or  to  have  high  military  rank,  like  his 
brothers,  fearing  that,  as  colonel  of  his  regiment,  he  should  be 
placed  far  from  the  scene  of  conflict,  if  the  country  should  be  act- 
ually invaded.  But  it  was  not  thought  fit  that  the  heir  apparent 
should  be  subjected  to  danger,  in  a post  which  could  as  well  be 
filled  by  any  other  man.  He  was  in  a sore  and  irritable  state  of 
mind  ; and  he  strove,  or  pretended,  to  ascribe  his  irritation  to  this. 
But  he  had  enough  besides  to  make  him  miserable.  His  father 
had,  in  February,  sent  down  a message  to  parliament,  to  desire  them 
to  consider  the  subject  of  the  debts  of  the  Prince  of  Wales.  No 
delicacy  was  used  about  the  matter.  It  was  understood  that  Mr. 
Addington  was  using  this  method  of  buying  off  the  Prince’s  claim 
for  the  revenues  of  the  Duchy  of  Cornwall  during  his  minority : 
a claim  which  was  sanctioned  by  the  opinion  of  the  Crown  law- 
yers. The  project  now  was  to  add  60,000/.  a year  to  his  income 
for  three  years,  to  liquidate  his  debts ; but  no  guaranty  was 
proposed  by  which  he  might  he  prevented  from  squandering 
money  as  he  had  always  hitherto  done  ; and  there  was  not  even 
any  security  for  the  restoration  of  his  establishment,  which  he 
had  broken  up,  on  a plea  of  necessity,  while  he  was  as  lavish  as 
ever  on  his  private  pleasures.  The  exposure  of  his  debts  before 
parliament  was  most  humiliating  to  himself,  while  nothing  was 


Chap.  IVJ 


THE  ENGLISH  IN  FRANCE. 


85 


arranged  which  could  make  it  final  and  effectual.  — When  the 
Royal  Message  of  the  8th  of  March  called  upon  parliament  to 
occupy  themselves  with  the  war,  the  Prince  desired  that  the  sub- 
ject of  his  affairs  should  be  dropped ; but  it  was  soon  resumed, 
and  his  annuity  bill  was  passed.1  It  did  not  leave  him  in  any 
humor  to  meet  his  parents,  unless  compelled ; and  it  is  hard  to 
say  which  is  most  painful  to  read  about  — the  cruel  harshness 
and  insulting  manners  of  the  father  towards  his  son,  at  the  very 
moment  that  he  could  be  sentimental  towards  his  adulatory  min- 
ister, or  the  heartless  levity  and  profligate  courses  of  the  son,  who 
made  it  his  pleasure  to  expose  to  the  public  the  harshness  under 
which  he  suffered. 

In  July,  the  militia  force  amounted  to  173,000  men;  and  the 
deficiency  was  in  officers  to  command  them.  The  minister  pro- 
posed, in  addition  to  all  the  forces  actually  in  existence,  the  for- 
mation of  an  army  of  reserve,  amounting  to  50,000  men  ; and 
this  was  presently  agreed  to.  There  was  little  that  the  parlia- 
ment and  people  of  England  would  not  have  agreed  to  at  this 
moment,  under  the  provocation  of  Napoleon’s  treat-  The  English 
ment  of  the  English  in  France.2  His  first  act  was  to  inFrance* 
order  the  detention,  as  prisoners  of  war,  of  all  the  English  then  in 
the  country,  between  the  ages  of  eighteen  and  sixty.  The  exas- 
peration caused  by  this  cruel  measure  was  all  that  he  could  have 
expected  or  desired.  Many  were  the  young  men  thus  doomed  to 
lose,  in  wearing  expectation  or  despair,  twelve  of  the  best  years 
of  their  lives,  cut  off  from  family,  profession,  marriage,  citizen- 
ship,— everything  that  young  men  most  value.  Many  were  the 
parents  separated  for  twelve  long  years  from  the  young  creatures 
at  home,  whom  they  had  left  for  a mere  pleasure-trip ; and  many 
were  the  gray-haired  fathers  and  mothers  at  home  who  went 
down  to  the  grave  during  those  twelve  years  without  another 
sight  of  the  son  or  daughter  who  was  pining  in  some  small  pro- 
vincial town  in  France,  without  natural  occupation,  and  wellnigh 
without  hope.  In  June,  the  English  in  Rouen  were  removed  to 
the  neighborhood  of  Amiens ; those  in  Calais  to  Lisle ; those  at 
Brussels  to  Valenciennes.  Before  the  month  was  out,  all  the 
English  in  Italy  and  Switzerland,  in  addition  to  those  in  Holland, 
were  made  prisoners.  How  many  the  whole  amounted  to  does 
not  appear  to  have  been  ascertained ; but  it  was  believed  at  the 
time  that  there  were  11,000  in  France,3  and  1300  in  Holland. 
The  first  pretence  was  that  these  travellers  were  detained  as  host- 
ages for  the  prizes  which  Napoleon  accused  us  of  taking  before 
the  regular  declaration  of  war ; but  when  proposals  were  made 
for  an  exchange,4  he  sent  a savage  answer  that  he  would  keep 

1 Annual  Register,  1803,  p.  99.  2 Ibid.  p.  391. 

8 Ibid.  p.  417  4 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  276. 


86 


LOSS  OF  HANOVER. 


[Book  I 


his  prisoners  till  the  end  of  the  war.  It  is  difficult  to  conceive 
how  there  could  be  two  opinions  about  the  nature  of  the  man 
after  this  act. 

The  naval  captures  of  which  Napoleon  complained,  as  made 
First  naval  prior  to  a declaration  of  war,  were  of  two  merchant- 
captures.  ships  taken  by  English  frigates  ; and  we  find  notices  of 
such  being  brought  into  port  on  the  25th  of  May.  Whether  they 
were  captured  before  the  18th,  there  is  no  record  that  we  can 
find.  Nelson  was  at  sea,  on  his  way  to  the  Mediterranean,  two 
days  before  the  declaration  ; and  on  the  23d,  Admiral  Cornwallis 
sent  home  news  of  the  first  capture  of  a vessel  of  war,  off  Ushant, 
bearing  a crew  of  ninety-two  men,  who  fought  with  great  bra- 
very. In  a few  days  a frigate  was  taken  ; and  another  frigate, 
a brig  of  war,  and  some  smaller  vessels,  in  the  course  of  June. 
On  the  sea,  our  successes  seemed  a matter  of  course ; but  mean- 
time a blow  was  struck  at  Great  Britain,  and  especially  at  her 
sovereign,  which  proved  that  the  national  exasperation  against 
France  was  even  yet  capable  of  increase.  On  the  breaking  out 
of  the  war,  George  III.  issued  a proclamation,  as  Elector  of  Han- 
over, declaring  to  Germany  that  the  Germanic  states  had  noth- 
Loss  of  Han-  ing  to  fear  in  regard  to  the  new  hostilities,  as  he  was 
over*  entering  into  war  as  King  of  Great  Britain,  and  not 

as  Elector  of  Hanover.  Whatever  military  preparations  were 
going  forward  in  Hanover  were  merely  of  a defensive  character. 
Napoleon,  however,  set  such  defence  at  defiance.  On  the  13th 
of  June,  news  arrived  of  the  total  surrender  of  Hanover  to  the 
French.  The  palace,  which  the  King  had  lately  repaired  and 
furnished  for  the  Duke  of  Cambridge,  at  an  expense  of  50,000/., 
was  tenanted  by  General  Mortier.  The  Hanoverians  had  en- 
tered into  a convention  with  the  French,1  by  which  the  regency 
was  set  aside,  the  French  cavalry  was  to  be  remounted  and 
equipped,  and  the  army  reclothed,  at  the  expense  of  the  elector- 
ate ; all  magazines,  arms,  artillery,  and  defences  were  given  up 
tc  he  invaders ; all  public  property,  which  was  made  to  include 
the  effects  of  the  King  of  England,  was  given  up  ; and  the  Han- 
overian army  was  to  retire  behind  the  Elbe.  This  was  disas- 
trous news  to  begin  with  ; but  it  was  not  the  kind  of  trouble  which 
affected  the  King’s  mind.  A Council  being  called  on  the  occa- 
sion, he  came  to  town  to  attend  it ; and  there  is  no  doubt  that 
he  did,  as  his  ministers  said,2  u receive  the  tidings  of  the  loss  of 
Hanover  with  great  magnanimity,  and  a real  kingliness  of  mind.” 
Yet  he  was,  at  the  same  time,  irritated  and  harsh  with  more  than 
one  member  of  his  own  family.  Messages  and  interviews  were 
proceeding,  in  the  midst  of  the  turmoil  of  the  new  war,3  to  prevent 

1 Annual  Register,  1803,  p.  394.  2 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  276. 

3 Ibid.  p.  264. 


Chap.  IV.]  ADDINGTON  POLICY  UNKNOWN. 


87 


the  Duchess  of  York  from  sitting  at  the  same  table  with  Mrs. 
Fitzherbert  at  a ball ; and  the  Duke  of  Kent  was  in  disgrace 
with  his  father  almost  as  deep  as  that  of  his  eldest  brother.  Now, 
on  the  surrender  of  Hanover,  the  Duke  of  Cambridge  returned 
home  in  a few  days,  his  occupation  abroad  being  gone.1  Gov- 
ernment resolved  to  declare  the  Elbe  and  the  Weser,  and  all  the 
ports  of  Western  Germany,  in  a state  of  blockade,  as  the  French 
had  now  command  over  all  the  intermediate  rivers.  It  was  cal- 
culated that  this  would  annoy  and  injure  Napoleon  effectually, 
as  it  would  cause  the  ruin  of  foreign  merchants  trading  from  the 
whole  series  of  ports.  English  merchants  would  suffer  deeply  ; but 
it  was  calculated  that  English  capital  and  stock  would  hold  out 
longer  than  those  of  foreign  merchants.  Thus  was  the  sickening 
process  of  private  ruin,  as  a check  to  public  aggression,  entered 
upon,  before  war  had  been  declared  a month.  The  Hanoverian 
army  was  not  suffered  to  remain  in  its  position  on  the  further 
bank  of  the  Elbe.  As  the  King  of  England  refused  to  ratify  the 
so-called  convention  of  the  3d  of  June,  the  French  general,  Mor- 
tier,  was  instructed  to  make  the  army  prisoners  of  war,  and  send 
them  into  France.  The  Hanoverian  general,  Walmoden,  could 
do  nothing  — the  apparatus  of  war  being  all  in  the  enemy’s 
hands.  He  capitulated  ; and  his  troops  laid  down  their  arms, 
and  returned  to  their  homes,  on  parole  not  to  serve  against 
France  or  her  allies  till  regularly  exchanged.  Mortier  wrote 
home  that  “ General  Walmoden  signed  the  capitulation  with  an 
afflicted  heart ; ” 2 and  that  it  was  “ difficult  to  paint  the  situation 
of  the  fine  regiment  of  the  King  of  England’s  guards  at  dis- 
mounting.” 

Thus  far,  no  intimation  had  been  given  of  Mr.  Addington’s 
proposed  European  policy ; 8 or  whether  he  had  any  British  poi- 
such  policy  at  all.  On  the  12th  of  June,  we  find  the  ic>r- 
old  diplomatist,  Lord  Malmesbury,  talking  over  matters  with  one 
of  the  ministers,  Lord  Pelham,  and  recurring  to  the  Pitt  policy 
of  “ settling  Europe  ” by  balancing  her  powers,  if  Russia  could 
be  induced  to  offer  her  intervention.  One  improvement  on  the 
Pitt  policy  was  suggested  by  his  friend.  “ If,”  he  says,  “ the 
general  plan  of  arranging  Europe  was  accepted,  or  seriously 
wished  for,  we  must  make  up  our  minds  to  give  money,  — large 
subsidies ; but  I would  give  them  only  after  the  work  was  done 
as  taskwork ; not  as  we  had  done  hitherto,  always  beforehand.” 
The  reply  of  the  minister  was  that  Addington  was  “ not  yet  up 
to  this.”  And  yet  the  government  had  had  to  lay  before  par- 
liament an  account  of  the  subsidies  furnished  by  England  to  the 
European  Powers  during  the  late  war,4  amounting  to  upwards  of 

1 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  278.  2 Annual  Register,  1803,  p.  287. 

8 Diaries,  iv.  p.  276.  4 Annual  Register,  1801.  Chron.  146. 


88 


THE  NATIONAL  DEBT. 


[Book  I. 


12.000. 000/.  The  British  merchants  who,  in  the  face  of  this 

fact,  entered  with  so  vigorous  a spirit  into  a renewal  of  war,  thus 
seem  to  be  brave  indeed.  And  so  they  were ; but  it  was  a 
bravery  inspired  by  the  peril  of  their  country  and  nation.  This 
should  always  be  remembered  when  the  burden  of  taxation  and 
the  grievance  of  the  Debt  are  complained  of.  About  the  war 
which  closed  the  century  there  might  fairly  be  a diversity  of 
opinions,  and  the  recklessness  with  which  the  Debt  was  increased 
will  ever  be  the  reproach  of  Mr.  Pitt’s  administration.  But  the 
present  war  was  an  unavoidable  struggle  for  national  existence  ; 
and  the  prodigious  increase  of  the  Debt  which  was  now  to  take 
place  was  a ransom  paid  for  national  life  and  freedom.  It  might 
be  that  the  business  was  mismanaged  ; it  might  be  that  a vast 
saving  of  danger  and  misery,  even  now  future,  might  have  been 
made  if  the  form  of  terminable  annuities,  and  other  arrange- 
ments, had  been  more  extensively  adopted ; but,  as  regards  the 
incurring  of  debt,  truth  and  principle  require  that  a wide  dis- 
tinction should  be  made  between  the  burdens  laid  upon  future 
generations  by  aristocratic  selfishness  and  self-will,  and  those 
which  grew  up  out  of  the  common  danger  that  threatened  all 
classes  with  destruction.  At  the  beginning  of  the  war  in  1798, 
the  Debt  amounted  to  2 60, 000, 000/. 1 That  war  increased  it 

to  820,000,000/.,  the  annual  burden  being  scarcely  short  of 

20.000. 000/.  The  new  war  was  to  carry  the  debt  up  to  1.040,- 
000,000/.,  and  the  annual  burden  to  upwards  of  32,000,000/. 
This  last  addition  of  420,000,000/.  was  what  the  nation  was,  at 
the  time,  willing  to  yield  to  the  necessity  of  the  time ; and,  if  the 
last  generation  had  not  been  so  willing,  we  should  not  now  have 
been  that  British  nation  that  we  are  proud  and  thankful  to  be. 

As  for  the  disgrace  of  the  Duke  of  Kent  with  his  family,  it 
The  Duke  of  was  only  an  aggravation  of  the  temper  ordinarily 
Kent.  existing  between  the  parties.  The  information  yielded 

by  lapse  of  years  shows  that  the  young  Prince  was  a sufferer 
throughout  his  childhood  and  youth  by  the  partialities  of  his 
parents,  in  the  same  way  as  his  eldest  brother.  He  was  disliked 
by  them,  always  treated  with  harshness,  always  misunderstood, 
and  never  allowed  to  speak  in  self-justification.  He  was  cramped 
in  purse,  and  he  ran  into  debt.  The  nominal  dignity  of  Lieuten- 
ant-General was  given  to  him,  without  such  an  allowance  as  was 
necessary  for  the  support  of  that  rank,  when  held  by  a Prince 
of  the  Blood ; and  he  had  not  the  privilege  of  that  candid  con- 
struction which  was  considered  the  due  of  every  other  officer  of 
that  rank  in  the  British  army.  His  last  post  had  been  at  Gib- 
raltar, and  there,  in  the  winter  of  1802-3,  a mutiny  had  occurred, 
which  he  was  accused  of  having  actually  caused.  He  was 
1 Political  Dictionary,  ii.  p.  403. 


Chap.  IV.]  APPEAL  OE  HEIR  APPARENT. 


89 


recalled ; and  so  harsh  were  his  family  to  him  that  one  of  the 
ministers,  Lord  Pelham,1  begged  of  Lord  Malmesbury  that  he 
would  endeavor  to  soften  the  Duke  of  York  towards  his  brother, 
and  prevent  an  exposure  of  the  family  differences.  — Position  of 
The  conduct  of  the  King  towards  his  heir,  at  the  the  heir  ap- 
same  period,  shows  what  his  temper  could  be  with  his  parent’ 
own  children  while  pious  words  were  on  his  lips,  and  he  was 
incessantly  calling  upon  God  to  witness  the  strength  and  purity 
of  his  conscience,  and  while  he  was  exchanging  tenderness  and 
flatteries  with  his  Chancellor,  Lord  Eldon,  and  his  Prime  Min- 
ister, Mr.  Addington.  Those  who  were  his , he  could  love,  and 
even  doat  upon ; but  he  could  not  respect  the  rights  of  those  who 
were  not  wholly  his.  He  could  insult  Lord  Grenville's  relations, 
and  u cut  ” Mr.  Pitt  in  the  Park,  and  oppress  some  of  his  own 
sons,  while  he  fondled  others.  Throughout  the  period  of  prep- 
aration for  war,  and  then  of  that  for  invasion,  the  Prince  of 
Wales  strove  to  obtain  some  notice  from  his  parents,  — some  ac- 
knowledgment of  his  desire  to  aid  in  the  defence  of  the  country  ; 
and  it  cannot  but  be  felt  by  every  reader  of  his  correspondence 
with  the  King,  the  Prime  Minister,  and  the  Duke  of  York,  that, 
whatever  cause  of  displeasure  and  mistrust  he  might  have  given 
them,  the  treatment  he  met  with  was  insulting  and  exasperating. 
Mr.  Addington  left  his  letters  unnoticed  as  long  as  he  could  — 
no  doubt  from  being  afraid  to  mention  him  to  the  King.2  The 
King  returned  a curt  and  harsh  reply  to  such  an  appeal  as  this, 
when  made,  at  last,  to  himself:  “ I ask  to  be  allowed  to  display 
the  best  energies  of  my  character  ; to  shed  the  last  drop  of  my 
blood  in  support  of  your  Majesty’s  person,  crown,  and  dignity : 
for  this  is  not  a war  for  empire,  glory,  and  dominion,  but  for 
existence.  In  this  contest,  the  lowest  and  humblest  of  your 
Majesty’s  subjects  have  been  called  upon  ; it  would  therefore 
little  become  me,  who  am  the  first , and  who  stand  at  the  very 
footstool  of  the  throne,  to  remain  a tame,  and  idle,  and  lifeless 


spectator  ! Hanover  is  lost  — England  is  menaced  with 

invasion  — Ireland  is  in  rebellion  — Europe  is  at  the  foot  of 


France!  At  such  a moment  the  Prince  of  Wales,  yielding  to 
none  of  your  servants  in  zeal  and  devotion  — to  none  of  your 
subjects  in  duty  — to  none  of  your  children  in  tenderness  and 
affection,  presumes  to  approach  you,  and  again  to  repeat  those 
offers  which  he  has  already  made  through  your  Majesty’s  min- 
isters  Ought  I not  to  come  forward  in  a moment  of 

unexampled  difficulty  and  danger?  Ought  I not  to  share  in 
the  glory  of  victory,  when  I have  everything  to  lose  by  defeat  ? 
The  highest  places  in  your  Majesty’s  service  are  filled  by  the 
younger  branches  of  the  royal  family ; to  me  alone  no  place  is 
1 Diaries,  iv.  p.  210.  2 Annual  Register,  1803,  p.  567. 


90 


PLOT  OF  COLONEL  DESPARD. 


[Book  I 


assigned.  T am  not  thought  worthy  to  be  even  the  junior  Major- 
General  of  your  army/'  It  was  probably  supposed  that  this 
letter  was  written  for  the  Prince  by  some  able  leader  of  Opposi- 
tion ; it  was  probably  supposed  that  he  was  insincere,  and  even 
malicious  in  thus  exhibiting  his  discontents  ; and  it  was  certainly 
concluded  by  the  advisers  of  the  Crown  that  the  heir  to  the 
throne  must  not  be  exposed  to  unnecessary  danger.  But  the 
appeal  should  have  been  responded  to  in  the  spirit  which  it  pro- 
fessed ; and  it  was  due  to  the  Prince,  as  to  every  other  man,  that 
a reason  should  be  assigned  for  the  mortification  of  a wish  osten- 
sibly virtuous.  The  King,  however,  assigned  no  cause  for  the 
refusal  but  his  own  will ; and  the  Minister  and  the  brother 
merely  alleged,  on  their  part,  the  King’s  prohibition  to  them 
to  mention  the  subject.1  If,  after  this,  and  after  his  father  had 
married  him,  without  consulting  him,  to  a woman  whom  he  dis- 
liked, and  after  the  King  had  outraged  his  feelings  about  his 
debts  and  difficulties,  by  the  conditions  he  exacted  and  the  pub- 
licity he  caused  — if,  after  all  this,  the  Prince  sought  solace  in 
his  own  way,  and  plunged  into  profligate  pleasures,  the  King  had 
no  right  to  be  excessively  scandalized  at  the  name  of  Mrs.  Fitz- 
herbert,  or  to  be  offended  when  his  unhappy  son  went  down  dis- 
respectfully to  Brighton,  to  avoid  the  review  in  the  Park,  where 
his  younger  brothers  figured  as  Commander-in-Chief  and  Lieu- 
tenant-Generals, while  he  was  only  a Colonel  of  Dragoons. 
What  the  King  did  now  was  to  write  that  he  had  hoped  to  hear 
no  more  of  the  matter,  after  his  repeated  interdiction  of  the  sub- 
ject, adding,  u should  the  implacable  enemy  so  far  succeed  as  to 
land,  you  will  have  an  opportunity  of  showing  your  zeal  at  the 
head  of  your  regiment.” 

The  King  appeared  to  advantage  on  critical  occasions  which 
involved  no  offence  to  his  self-will  and  his  prejudices.  It  has 
been  seen  that  he  bore  well  the  loss  of  his  Hanoverian  domin- 
ions. He  was  also  quiet  and  cool  on  occasion  of  attempts  upon 
his  life.  A wild  and  strange  plot  had  been  discovered  and  pun- 
ished in  the  last  winter,  which  must  have  appeared  formidable 
in  the  first  instance.  One  of  the  victims  of  Mr.  Pitt’s  cruel 
policy  of  repression  of  political  opinion  was  Col.  Despard,  who 
had  been  imprisoned  for  several  months  in  the  jail  of  Cold  Bath 
Coi.  Des-  Fields,  then  called,  from  the  number  of  state  prisoners 
pard's  plot.  jn  the  English  Bastille.  Despard  had  been  commit- 
ted under  the  suspension  of  the  Habeas  Corpus,  never  brought  to 
trial,  and  discharged  without  remark  on  the  expiration  of  the  Sus- 
pension Act.  This  was  good  training  for  treason.  He  established 
a Society  for  the  Extension  of  Liberty;  and  this  society  was  joined 
by  a government  spy.  When  the  members  had  proceeded  so  far, 
1 Annual  Register,  1803,  pp.  565,  570. 


Ch^p.  IV.] 


GOVERNOR  WALL’S  CASE. 


91 


possibly  under  spy-instigation,  as  to  plan  the  seizure  of  the  gov- 
ernment, and  the  capture  of  the  public  edifices,  and  the  death  of 
the  King,  the  government  laid  hold  of  them,  and  lodged  forty-six 
conspirators  in  prison.  Col.  Despard  was  kept,  heavily  ironed, 
in  Newgate.  The  first  witness  called  for  his  defence  was  his  old 
comrade,1  Lord  Nelson,  who  bore  testimony  zealously  to  his 
loyalty,  as  well  as  his  bravery.  Many  persons  doubted  the  good- 
ness of  the  evidence,  as  far  as  the  most  serious  charges  were 
concerned,  questioning  the  characters  of  the  witnesses  — soldiers 
who  declared  themselves  to  have  been  won  over  by  Despard ; 
but  there  could  be  no  doubt  of  his  having  gone  so  far  in  sedition 
as  to  leave  him  little  chance  in  those  days  of  political  and  judi- 
cial severity.  He  was  hanged,  with  six  of  his  accomplices,  on 
the  21st  of  February,  1803.2  His  last  words  were  a charge  upon 
the  Ministers  that  they,  knowing  him  to  be  innocent,  hanged  him 
because  he  was  a friend  to  liberty.  No  one  believed  this  ; and 
the  saying  went  some  way  to  settle  the  minds  of  persons  before 
unsatisfied  by  the  evidence.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the  King 
believed  that  a great  number  of  persons  had  arranged  to  sur- 
round his  coach  and  shoot  him,  as  he  went  down  to  meet  his  par- 
liament ; and  the  thought  did  not  seem  to  affect  his  nerves.  His 
infirmities  never  impaired  his  personal  courage.  Some  of  the 
crowd  at  the  execution  cheered  the  last  words  of  Despard.  Many 
more  set  up  a groan  when  the  executioner,  having  severed  the 
head  from  the  dead  body,  held  it  up,  streaming  with  blood,  and 
made  the  old  proclamation,  usual  in  cases  of  treason.  The  groan 
appears  to  have  been  extorted  by  disgust  at  this  relic  of  barbar- 
ism, and  not  by  sympathy  with  the  sufferer,  or  execration  of  him. 

The  conduct  of  the  crowd  at  another  execution  during  this 
period  was  so  significant  as  to  draw  almost  as  much  attention  as 
the  execution  itself.  Governor  Wall  was  hanged  in  ExPCUticm 
1802  for  an  offence  committed  by  him  nearly  twenty  of  Governor 
years  before;  and  the  offence  was  having  a soldier  W11' 
fatally  flogged,  without  such  a sentence  by  a court-martial  as  is 
requisite  in  cases  of  mutiny.  The  stem  fulfilment  of  the  law  on 
the  person  of  a ruler,  at  a period  when  mutineers  were  unre- 
lentingly dealt  with,  was  hailed  by  the  populace,  and  by  classes 
above  the  populace,  with  a welcome  which  was  natural,  though 
it  had  in  it  too  much  of  vindictive  joy.  Governor  Wall  was 
leaving  Goree,  (the  small  island  on  the  African  coast  where 
he  held  command,)  in  July,  1782,  in  bad  health,  when  the  sol- 
diers, suffering  from  the  non-payment  of  their  wages,  made  a de- 
mand of  a settlement  before  his  departure  in  a way  wThich  the 
Governor  considered  mutinous.  Time  passed,  and  circumstances 
looked  more  threatening  every  hour ; and  Sergeant  Armstrong, 
1 Apnual  Register,  1803,  p.  597.  2 Ibid.  p.  370. 


92 


PARLIAMENT  PROROGUED. 


[Book  1 


a chief  remonstrant,  was  brought  out  and  flogged,  after  a conver- 
sation among  the  officers  which  could  in  no  way  be  made  out  to 
be  a court-martial.  The  flogging  was  inflicted  with  a rope  which 
seems  to  have  been  used  in  ignorance  of  its  unfitness  for  the 
purpose.  It  killed  the  man : Governor  Wall  remained  unmo- 
lested in  England  for  some  time  after  his  return,  but  was  at 
length  arrested,  and  carried  towards  London  from  Bath.  At 
Reading,  he  absconded,  escaped  abroad,  remained  nearly  twenty 
years  a wanderer,  and  returned  at  last  in  full  confidence  of  being 
let  off,  after  such  a lapse  of  time.  But  the  lapse  of  time  did  not 
alter  the  facts,  nor  destroy  the  evidence  of  them.  However  strong 
the  compassion  felt  for  the  unhappy  man,  it  was  not  a case  for 
mercy,  while  no  mercy  could  be  shown  to  mutineers.  It  seems 
unquestionable  that  the  punishment  of  Governor  Wall  infused 
confidence  and  loyalty  into  the  heart,  not  only  of  the  two  ser- 
vices, but  of  the  people  of  England  generally,  as  a proof  that  the 
oppressor  was  to  meet  retribution  as  surely  as  the  disobedient, 
and  that  the  law  did  not  sleep.  The  appearance  of  Wall  on  the 
scaffold1  was  hailed  by  three  organized  shouts  of  exultation,  which 
evidently  withered  his  heart.  He  no  doubt  understood  them,  as 
did  many  others,  as  cries  of  vindictive  triumph  ; but  we  may  hope 
that  more  was  due  to  the  supremacy  of  law  than  to  popular 
hatred  of  the  sufferer  under  it.  The  King’s  mind  was  quite 
clear,  as  was  that  of  his  Ministers  generally,  on  the  absence  of 
reason  for  merciful  interference  in  this  case.  Lord  Eldon  only 
seems  to  have  doubted,  as  usual.2  “ He  would  not  say  that  Gov- 
ernor Wall  ought  to  be  hanged  ; and  he  would  not  say  he  ought 
not.”  So  the  case  was  decided  without  Lord  Eldon’s  help. 

Parliament  was  prorogued  on  the  12th  of  August,  and  it  was 
high  time,  for  the  members  were  wanted  in  the  coun- 
Prorogation.  ^ They  had  sat  thus  long  on  account  of  the  Irish  re- 
bellion. As  soon  as  they  could  separate,  after  that,  there  was  plen- 
ty for  them  to  do  in  preparing  for  the  defence  of  the 
pubfic°m^nd.  country.  The  spirit  was  not  everywhere  quite  so  good  as 
the  police  found  it  in  the  London  ale-houses.  The  farm- 
ers in  Oxfordshire  were  saying  that  they  were  so  heavily  taxed, 
that  if  Bonaparte  came,  they  could  not  be  worse  ; and  some  York- 
shire squires  were  promised  a handsome  following  if  they  would 
“ turn  out.”  The  religious  leaders  were  struggling  for  a prohibi- 
tion of  Sunday  drilling ; while  Mr.  Pitt  declared  such  exercise  not 
to  be  contrary  to  English  Church  principles.  Mr.  Pitt  was  “ ram- 
pant about  setting  Europe  to  rights,”  3 — thus  foreshadowing  to  all 
who  recognized  the  weakness  of  the  government,  his  speedy  return 
to  power.  He  had  taken  the  command  at  Walmer,  as  Lord  War- 

1 Annual  Register,  1802,  p.  364.  2 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  i.  p.  478. 

8 Life  of  Wilberforce,  ii.  p.  110. 


Chap.  IV  ] 


WANT  OF  LEADERS. 


93 


den,  of  3000  volunteers,  who  were  to  be  among  the  first  to  abide 
the  invaders  on  the  south  coast.  The  government,  meanwhile, 
were  “ yawning  over’’  plans  of  defence  submitted  to  them,  and 
drawing  to  London  so  many  troops  as  to  leave  the  coasts  and 
interior  weak,  simply  because  arms  were  terribly  deficient,  and 
no  vigorous  means  were  used  to  obtain  a supply.  Official  gentle- 
men did  not  act  together  ; and  their  Premier  had  very  little  notion 
how  to  act  at  all.  Thus,  while  the  nation  understood  its  peril, 
and  was,  for  the  most  part,  nobly  eager  to  deal  with  it,  effectual 
leading  in  the  provinces  was  much  wanted.  The  Lord- Lieuten- 
ants could  obtain  no  clear  directions,  and  no  one  knew  the  mind 
of  government.  The  offers  of  some  volunteers  were  refused, 
without  reason  assigned ; others  were  never  answered  ; and  the 
corps  dissolved,  disheartened.  Where  government  did  explain, 
it  was  to  intimate  a deficiency  of  arms,  without  promise  of  a 
speedy  supply.  Mr.  Pitt,  under  the  irritation  of  such  helpless- 
ness, dropped  an  occasional  sarcasm,  which  occupied  the  Minister 
almost  as  painfully  as  the  threats  of  Napoleon.  “ The  city  are 
out  of  all  patience  with  Addington,”  1 writes  Mr.  Wilberforce, 
the  day  before  the  prorogation ; “ and  I think  people  in  general 
will  begin  to  be  out  of  temper  in  various  places,  from  their 
personal  acquaintance  with  the  delays  and  inefficiency  of  his 
administration.”  So  it  was  time  that  the  Lords  and  Commons 
were  betaking  themselves  to  their  respective  districts,  to  act 
under  government  direction  when  they  could  obtain  it,  and  on 
their  own  judgment  when  they  could  not.  The  Royal  Speech 
suggested  “ the  duty,  particularly,  to  give  the  most  beneficial 
direction  to  that  ardor  and  enthusiasm  in  the  cause  of  their 
country  which  animate  all  classes  of  my  people.” 

While  the  Lords  and  Commons  were  thus  employed,  during 
the  autumn,  the  politicians  in  London,  partisans  of  Pitt  and  Ad- 
dington, were  carrying  on  a war  of  pamphlets,  so  bitter  as  to 
complete  the  estrangement  of  the  old  friends,  and  constitute  them 
rivals.  Once  brought  into  a position  of  rivalship  in  difficult  times, 
there  could  be  no  doubt  about  which  would  sink.  Mr.  Pitt, 
“ rampant  about  setting  Europe  to  rights,”  was  sure  to  be  soon 
called  on  to  undertake  the  work. 

1 Life  of  Wilberforce,  iii.  p.  119. 


91 


THE  GRENVILLE  LETTER. 


[Book  I. 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  East  India  Company’s  ship,  Admiral  Aplin,  was  captured 
by  the  French  squadron  under  Linois ; and  its  letter-bag  fell  into 
the  hands  of  the  enemy.  Eighty-four  letters,  contained  in  the 
bag,  afforded  to  Napoleon  a good  deal  of  information  about  Eng- 
lish affairs,  and  the  views  of  leading  men.  Among 
vnie^eTter  them  was  one  from  Lord  Grenville  to  Lord  Wellesley, 
which  was  translated,  and  published  in  the  French 
newspapers.  The  English  papers  re-translated  and  published  it ; 
and  strange  must  have  been  the  effect  upon  the  politicians  in 
London  of  such  a revelation  as  this  letter  afforded  of  the  acts  and 
projects  of  parties,  as  far  as  they  were  known  to  Lord  Grenville. 
It  seems  as  if  this  letter  alone  was  enough  to  overthrow  the  Ad- 
dington Administration ; for  it  showed  that  men  and  parties  the 
most  opposed  to  each  other  were  drawing  together  under  a con- 
viction that  all  other  considerations  must  be  postponed  to  that 
of  getting  rid  of  a ministry  which  perilled  the  country  at  such  a 
crisis  as  the  present.  Lord  Grenville  told  his  friend  1 that  there 
was  not  the  slightest  fear  for  the  country  from  abroad  if  only 
there  were  a wise  husbandry  and  directing  of  its  powers  at  home  ; 
but  that  as  Holland,  Italy,  Germany,  and  Switzerland,  had  fallen 
into  the  hands  of  Napoleon  through  the  weakness  of  the  govern- 
ment, while  the  people  were  strong,  it  was  impossible  to  say 
what  might  be  the  fate  of  Great  Britain,  if  some  effort  were  not 
made  to  obtain  good  government  for  her.  He  went  on  to  say 
that  he  was  drawing  away  more  and  more  from  Addington  ; and 
so  was  Pitt ; and,  though  they  were  not  likely  ever  to  agree 
about  some  past  transactions,  there  was  now  little  or  no  difference 
in  their  opinions  of  the  affairs  of  the  time,  and  the  conduct  indi- 
cated by  them.  Thus  far  the  letter.  The  Old  and  New 
fheMinirtry  Opposition,  the  one  headed  by  Mr.  Fox,  and  the  other 
by  the  Grenvilles,  were,  in  fact,  also  showing  a 
willingness  to  combine,  for  the  same  object : so  that,  when  par- 
liament met,  on  the  2 2d  of  November,  the  Minister  had  all  the 
leaders  against  him,  though  the  respective  parties  retained  their 
names,  and  did  not  compromise  their  opinions  on  other  subjects 
by  entering  into  any  coalition.  From  the  beginning  to  the  end 
1 Annual  Register,  1804,  p.  119. 


Chap.  V.]  ROYAL  TROUBLES.  — FRANCE  PREPARING.  95 


of  the  session,  the  force  of  the  speeches  and  of  the  votes  lay  on 
opposite  sides.  At  the  beginning,  the  ministerial  majority  was  so 
large  that  the  Opposition  did  not  often  try  the  power  of  their 
oratory  ; but  each  attack  reduced  the  government  majority ; and 
the  reduction  invited  further  attacks ; so  that  it  became  more 
and  more  evident  that  a change  must  take  place ; and  the  ques- 
tion was  whether  it  would  happen  in  time  for  the  strengthening 
of  the  country  against  the  French  invasion.  Mr.  Pitt,  after  tes- 
tifying his  disapprobation  of  the  supineness  and  fickleness  of  the 
government,  was  little  seen  in  London.  He  was  much  at  Wal- 
mer,  doing  his  duty  as  Warden,  exercising  his  corps,  and  aston- 
ishing officers  of  the  army  by  his  military  knowledge  and  sagac- 
ity. The  poor  King  was  fretting;  and  with  abundant  Royal anxie- 
reason.  The  Prince  of  Wales  had  separated  from  his  ties- 
wife,  and  was  giving  great  occasion  of  scandal.  The  Minister  to 
whom  the  King  had  clung  for  satisfaction  to  his  religious  feel- 
ings, which  were  outraged  everywhere  else,  would  soon,  he  saw, 
be  taken  from  him.  Which  way  to  turn  he  knew  not.  Mr. 
Pitt  had,  he  feared,  become  a leveller  ; and  at  any  rate,  he 
would  want  to  bring  the  Catholics  into  parliament ; an  act  which 
appeared  to  the  old  sovereign  a sort  of  atheism.  As  for  Fox, 
he  had  given,  at  a public  dinner,  the  toast  44  The  Sovereignty 
of  the  People  ; ” and  he  was,  or  had  been,  an  admirer  of  the 
French  Revolution,  which  had  begun  in  atheism,  and  ended 
in  the  murder  of  kings  and  their  adherents.  Lord  Grenville 
was  no  better  than  Mr.  Pitt  about  the  Catholic  question  ; and 
there  was  no  chance  of  making  a ministry  without  either  Lord 
Grenville  and  Fox  on  the  one  hand,  or  Pitt  on  the  other. 
These  things  were,  of  themselves,  only  too  perplexing  and 
alarming  for  a brain  like  his  ; but  there  was  also  the  terrific 
vision  on  the  other  side  of  the  Channel.  The  old  King  was  full 
of  courage  and  of  English  spirit  ; but  it  required  all  the  fortitude 
that  a popular  sovereign  could  command  to  look  over,  from  such 
a station  as  the  throne,  to  the  heights  of  Boulogne.  Napoleon 
had  made  a great  demonstration  there,  and  his  activ-  French 
ity  formed  a melancholy  contra-t  with  the  delay  and  preparations, 
irresolution  at  home.  He  had  formed  a new  basin  for  gun-boats, 
and  for  the  Hat-bottomed  boats  with  which  he  proposed  to  invade 
England.  He  had  enlarged  and  fortified  the  port  and  road  of 
Boulogne,  and  also  that  of  Ambleteuse.  He  ranged  500,000 
troops  along  the  coast,  and  visited  them  often  and  in  great  state ; 
and  he  put  up  finger-posts  along  the  roads  which  converge  to- 
wards Boulogne,  on  which  the  direction  was  44  the  way  to  Lon- 
don.” However  much  of  the  demonstration  might  be,  like  the 
last  item,  mere  vulgar  bragging,  Napoleon  had  shown  enough  of 
what  he  could  do  to  prevent  his  enemies  despising  him  and  his 


96 


PARLIAMENT  MEETS.  — VOLUNTEERS.  [Book  I. 


threats.  The  wooden  walls  of  England  were  a strong  defence  ; 
but  they  could  not  give  that  sense  of  perfect  security  which  was 
necessary  for  the  King’s  peace  of  mind. 

As  for  the  Mini  ter 1 who  was  the  cause  of  so  much  anxiety 
to  others,  he  was  apparently  quite  serene,  while  writing  to  h s 
brother  that  it  was  doubtful  whether  the  enemy  would  wait  to 
complete  their  preparations  — doubtful  whether  they  might  not 
Meeting  of  put  forth  from  their  harbors  at  any  hour;  and  that  he 
parliament,  anticipated  little  opposition  in  parliament  before  the 
separation  for  the  Christmas  recess.2  He  had  to  announce,  in  the 
Royal  Speech,  successes  in  the  West  Indies,  and  to  claim  credit 
for  the  suppression  of  Emmett’s  rebellion  in  Ireland.  The  settle- 
ments of  Demerara  and  Essequibo,  and  four  islands  in  the  West 
Indies  (Tobago,  St.  Lucia,  St.  Pierre,  and  Miquelon),  had  sur- 
rendered to  the  British ; and  this  was  the  last  piece  of  good  news 
— much  exaggerated  also  by  him  — which  Mr.  Addington  was 
to  announce  as  Minister.  He  found  himself  vigorously  opposed 
before  Christmas.  The  Address  was  agreed  to,  with  some  expla- 
Voiunteer  nations  on  the  part  of  Opposition.  The  most  interest- 
questions.  ing  discussion  was  on  the  Volunteer  Amendment  Bill. 
Much  confusion  had  arisen  about  exemptions  ; and  Mr.  Secretary 
Yorke  explained  that  the  confusion  arose  from  the  imperfect 
arming  of  the  volunteer  corps,  which  prevented  the  commanding 
officers  from  making  the  timely  returns  required  by  law.  Claims 
to  exemption  from  militia  service,  on  the  ground  of  volunteer 
service,  should  have  been  delivered  in  before  the  21st  of  Sep- 
tember; but  as  the  corps  must  be  reported  as  fully  armed, 
equipped,  and  accoutred,  and  they  were  not  so,  the  day  passed, 
and  the  volunteers  were  left  uncertain  of  their  exemption.3  Mr. 
Yorke  intimated  that  the  volunteers  might  be  pronounced  armed, 
if  they  carried  pikes  ; and  it  was  this  which  called  up  Mr.  Pitt. 
He  was  one  of  those  who  thought  that  the  volunteers  could  not 
be  too  much  assimilated  to  soldiery  : that,  if  they  assumed  to  be 
the  soldiery  which  was  to  defend  the  country,  they  could  not 
have  too  much  military  regularity  in  their  appearance  and  action. 
He  now  spoke  a word  for  his  view,  in  opposition  to  that  of  per- 
sons who  preferred  a more  unprofessional  demonstration,  as  look- 
ing more  immediate^  patriotic,  and  less  pregnant  with  danger  to 
a future  time.  He  looked  upon  the  volunteers  now  training 
throughout  the  country  as  being  “ accepted  for  regular  infantry  : 
that  the  only  proper  arms  for  such  a corps  were  muskets  ; and 
that  if  they  were  armed  with  pikes  or  pitchforks,  or  any  other 
weapon,  the  commander  could  not  return  them  as  properly 
armed  and  equipped.”  He  noticed,  too,  the  supply  of  arms 

i Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  ii.  p.  230.  2 Hansard,  i.  p.  1. 

a Ibid.  i.  p.  320. 


Chap.  V.]  PROPER  ARMS  FOR  VOLUNTEERS. 


97 


being,  in  many  cases,  only  a fourth  of  what  was  wanted ; and 
required  that,  while  that  was  the  case,  the  number  of  days’  exer- 
cise should  be  extended  three  fourths.  Mr.  Pitt’s  view  was  that 
of  the  country  gentlemen,  one  of  whom,  a capital  specimen  of  his 
class,  has  left  us  his  opinion  of  the  slowness  of  the  government 
in  providing  arms  which  the  volunteers  would  use.  While 
“ plagued  almost  to  death  with  orders  about  beacons,  pioneers, 
and  wagons,”  and  arranging  for  all  horses  to  be  moved  away 
from  the  coast  “ with  as  many  women  and  children  on  their 
backs  as  possible,”  he  wrote,1  “ At  one  time  our  spirit  was 

brisk  ; but government  not  having  a sufficient  number 

of  arms  to  issue  checked  the  ardor  of  those  who  had  engaged.  I 
have  heard  much  talk  of  the  advantages  of  a pike,  but  the  fire- 
lock is  the  only  weapon  to  put  into  the  hands  of  a gentleman  sol- 
dier. There  are  a great  many  pikes  in  store  at  Hull,  but  I 
rather  think  that  there  has  not  been  a requisition  for  any.”  This 
matter  was  no  trifle.  The  volunteering  of  the  country  was  the 
one  great  test  of  the  principle  and  temper  of  the  nation ; and 
our  insular  situation  must  ever  make  this  a more  decisive  test 
than  it  can  be  in  countries  where  war  has  been  actually  seen 
on  their  own  soil  by  civilians.2  As  the  Duke  of  Wellington  ob- 
served, on  occasion  of  a later  alarm,  the  tendency  of  a people 
who  are  quietly  governed,  and  have  never  seen  war,  must  always 
be  to  rely  on  the  government,  to  expect  to  be  defended  as  a return 
for  what  they  pay  to  it,  and  to  disbelieve  that  violence  can  ever 
reach  them  and  their  homes  — their  stables  and  kennels,  their 
libraries,  their  gardens  and  farms.  There  is  danger  that  personal 
energy  will  go  to  sleep,  and  that  the  force  of  the  nation  will  evap- 
orate, while  government  is  expected  to  do  everything  in  civil 
war  or  invasion.  A volunteer  force  is  the  natural  method  of 
counteracting  this  tendency  — training  the  mind  to  citizenship 
while  training  the  body  to  arms.  The  sacrifices  made  by  men 
thus  offering  their  services  were  usually  considerable.  In  some 
cases  which  we  find  in  the  records  of  the  Law-courts  they  were 
absolutely  ruinous  : yet  the  government  first  damped  the  spirit 
of  the  volunteers  by  discouragement  and  discourtesy  ; then  made 
the  terms  of  exemption  from  militia  service  by  volunteering  un- 
certain or  impossible,  by  failing  to  supply  arms  and  accoutre- 
ments ; and  finally,  ruined  a few  citizens,  here  and  there,  by  fines 
and  convictions  occasioned  by  the  uncertainty  of  the  exemption 
order.  To  tamper  thus  with  the  national  spirit  on  which  every- 
thing depended  was  no  trifle,  whether  the  question  was  of  pikes 
and  muskets  or  anything  else  ; and  it  is  no  wonder  that  Mr. 

1 Wilberforce  Correspondence,  i.  p.  288. 

2 Memoirs  of  R.  Plumer  Ward. 

VOL.  i.  7 


98  NAVAL  DEFICIENCIES.  IBook  L 

Pitt  threw  out  sarcasms  about  pitchforks  in  the  House,  or  that 
he  presently  disappeared  from  parliament  for  the  winter. 

The  military  force  of  the  country  was  at  this  time  considered 
Force  of  the  to  be,  of  all  kinds,  495,000  in  Great  Britain,  and 
country.  120,000  in  Ireland; 1 and  the  number  of  vessels  of  all 
orders,  employed  in  defence,  no  less  than  1652.2  Not  the  less 
for  this,  however,  wa^  the  naval  service  unequal  to  the  present 
requisition  upon  it.  Several  ships  were  sent  to  sea  while  actu- 
ally under  repair.  During  the  short  peace,  shipwrights  had 
been  dismissed  from  the  dockyards,  leaving  half-finished  vessels 
on  the  stocks  ; and  the  stores  of  hemp  which  had  been  accumu- 
lated by  the  preceding  Administration  were  sold  off  (to  French 
purchasers  among  others)  to  save  warehouse  rent.  This  misman- 
agement was  of  a piece  with  that  which  left  our  naval  command- 
ers in  the  East  Indies  uninformed  by  overland  message  of  the 
renewal  of  the  war,  while  the  French  admiral  had  immediate 
information.  Our  despatches  were  intercepted,  our  India  ships 
taken,  and  our  settlements  insulted,  before  our  commanders  in 
those  seas  knew  why.  Nelson  was  gone  to  the  Mediterranean. 
In  the  West  Indies,  as  we  have  seen,  some  conquests  had  been 
made.  Nearer  home,  a disaster  occurred  at  Christmas,  which 
occasioned  much  temporary  anxiety.  At  that  time,  when  it  was 
believed  that  a landing  in  Ireland  was  in  the  enemy’s  intention, 
a tremendous  storm  broke  up  our  armament  before  Brest,  and 
scattered  our  ships,  while  a steady  S.  E.  wind  seemed  to  offer  it- 
self to  carry  the  French  to  Ireland.  They  were,  however,  better 
employed.  While  our  government  was  declaring  that  the  enemy 
had  no  navy,  and  was  at  the  same  time  blockading  the  French 
ports,  the  French  were  building,  repairing  and  refitting  their 
ships,  knowing  that  the  British  vessels  were  wearing  and  wasting 
in  the  wintry  storms,  and  must  go  home  to  refit  when  the  fine 
weather  came,  and  the  French  were  ready  for  sea.  As  these 
things  were  pointed  out,  and  the  mistakes  of  the  Administration 
began  to  show  their  consequences,  the  King  grew  more  anxious 
and  perplexed  every  day,  and  less  and  less  able  to  withstand 
any  attack  of  illness.  About  the  middle  of  January,  he  had  a fit 
The  King's  of  the  gout  from  remaining  in  wet  clothes.  On  the 
ill u ess.  evening  of  the  Queen’s  birthday,  he  walked  about  with 

a cane  ; but  his  manner  was  strange,  and  his  talk  incoherent ; 3 
and  the  Queen  from  her  card-table  watched  him  anxiously  and 
incessantly.  He  continued  to  send  notes,  announcing  his  recovery 
from  gout,  to  Mr.  Addington ; and  they  seem  as  clear  as  his 
notes  usually  were.  There  was  a council  held  on  the  24th  of 
January,  at  which  he  appeared  capable  of  transacting  business  ; 

i Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  ii.  p.  235.  2 Annual  Register,  1801,  p.  382. 

8 Ma}mesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  292. 


Chap.  V.J 


THE  KING’S  ILLNESS. 


99 


and  so  late  as  the  8th  of  February,  he  sustained  a long  conver- 
sation with  the  Duke  of  Kent,  in  which  he  appears  to  have  been 
kind  and  gracious  to  his  depressed  son  ; yet  it  was  known  among 
those  near  the  Court  that  he  had  been  decidedly  insane  during 
the  last  days  of  January.  Before  the  middle  of  February,  the 
case  was  as  bad  as  possible,  and  the  whole  kingdom  knew  it. 
The  Queen  and  her  children  resigned  the  care  of  the  King  and 
the  ordering  of  all  business  to  the  Ministers,  by  the  express  act 
of  delivering  in  a written  declaration  to  that  purpose.  It  was  a 
terrible  addition  to  the  perplexities  of  the  time.  The  Opposition 
grew  rampant,  and  the  Administration  grew  feebler  — in  votes 
as  well  as  in  spirit ; and  the  French  shipwrights  plied  their  work 
faster  and  faster,  and  the  threats  of  Napoleon  grew  fiercer  and 
bolder.  From  the  18th  of  February,  the  Kings  mania  abated  ; 1 
and  on  the  26th,  two  documents  were  put  forth  to  the  world  which 
it  puzzled  the  world  to  reconcile.  The  Archbishop  of  Canterbury 
issued  a form  of  Thanksgiving  for  the  happy  prospect  of  the 
King’s  speedy  restoration  ; and  on  the  same  day  the  bulletin  of 
the  physicians  declared,  that  though  his  Majesty  was  going  on 
favorably,  any  rapid  amendment  was  not  to  be  expected.  Par- 
liament inquired  what  this  meant ; and  the  answer  was  that, 
while  the  King  was  equal  to  the  transaction  of  some  ordinary 
business,  it  would  be  prudent  to  guard  him  for  some  time  from 
all  excitement  and  unnecessary  exertion  of  mind. 

These  were  not  times,  however,  when  the  minds  and  nerves  of 
kings  and  statesmen  could  be  spared.  Though  for  public  pur- 
poses the  King  was  called  well  in  March,  his  family  were  very 
unhappy  at  the  end  of  May.  He  dismissed  and  exchanged  ser- 
vants, prayed  aloud  and  incessantly  when  he  should  have  slept, 
and  became  so  irritable  that  the  Queen  never  answered  remarks 
and  complaints,  refused  to  converse  with  him  unless  some  of  her 
daughters  were  present,  and  kept  her  boudoir  locked  to  secure 
the  repose  she  needed,  several  times  in  the  day,  from  his  wearing 
loquacity.  We  find  this  going  on  even  at  the  close  of  the  year ; 2 
and  such  was  the  state  of  mind  of  the  Sovereign  during  the  spring 
which  seemed  to  be  a critical  season  for  the  fortunes  of  the 
world. 

On  the  19th  of  February,  it  was  reported  that  Mr.  Fox  and 
the  Grenvilles  had  joined  forces.  Mr.  Pitt  spoke  well  New  coop- 
of  the  junction,  while  silent  as  to  his  own  intended  eration- 
course.  About  the  mal-administration  of  affairs,  however,  he  was 
so  far  from  being  silent  that  many  began  to  anticipate  his  joining 
himself  to  the  “ Cooperation  ” ; for  the  word  “ Coalition  ” was 
disclaimed,  and  “ Cooperation  ” substituted.  Mr.  Addington, 
bearing  that  Pitt  constantly  disclaimed  personal  enmity,  thought 
1 Life  of  L:>rd  Sidmouth,  ii.  p.  250.  2 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  344. 


100 


PITT’S  OFFER  OF  SERVICE. 


[Book  I. 


this  meant  tnat  Pitt  fluctuated  from  day  to  day  between  old 
attachment  and  new  party  influences.  He  never  could  under- 
stand that  his  own  misgovernment  afforded  ample  ground  for 
parliamentary  opposition,  without  any  mixture  of  personal  hos- 
tility. He  was  therefore  always  hoping  that  his  old  friend  would 
not  harm  him  in  reality,  and  was  astonished  accordingly  by  the 
great  debates  at  the  end  of  April,  which  determined  the  fate  of 
his  Administration.  On  the  27th  of  February,  Mr.  Pitt  reap- 
peared in  the  House  of  Commons,1  and  made  a speech  on  the 
Defence  of  the  Country  which  stung  his  old  comrade,  by  one  ex- 
pression, as  deeply  as  sting  could  go.  He  declared  that  he  differed 
from  the  government,  and  entirely  agreed  with  Mr.  Windham, 
Last  days  of  with  regard  to  the  extent  of  the  question  before  them, 
the  Ministry.  — qu  the  1 5th  of  March,  he  moved  for  papers  relat- 
ing to  the  naval  administration  of  the  country,  in  a speech  which 
was  one  of  powerful  criticism  of  the  government.  Though  Mr. 
Tierney  was  amazed  that  Mr.  Pitt  should  set  up  his  opinion 
against  that  of  the  Admiralty,  it  appeared  that  others  did  so 
too  ; 2 for  the  majority  of  the  government  was  only  71,  in  a House 
of  331  ; a small  government  majority  in  those  days.  The  Prince 
of  Wales’s  friends  on  this  occasion  voted  with  the  Minister  ; and 
the  Grenvilles  and  Fox  with  Mr.  Pitt.  — After  this,  came  the 
Easter  recess  ; and  at  length,  the  great  trial  of  strength  on  the 
23d  of  April. 

Mr.  Addington  wrote  to  his  supporters  in  the  country,3  to  urge 
their  attendance  on  the  important  Monday.  The  Opposition  had 
made  exertions  to  rally  their  numbers  ; and  the  fickle  Prince  of 
Wales  had  joined  them.  Mr.  Pitt  did  on  that  morning,  what  he 
Debate  on  had  long  contemplated,  and  what  he  thought  would  be 
the  defence  of  better  done  before  the  critical  divisions  in  Parliament, 
the  countiy.  after  they  should,  as  was  possible,  have  placed 

him  in  a triumphant  position.  Some  overtures  were  already 
made  to  him,  or  he  was  in  some  way  sounded  through  Lord  Chan- 
cellor Eldon,4  (Mr.  Addington  knowing  nothing  of  it,  as  he  al- 
ways declared,)  as  to  whether  he  would  undertake  office,  if  the 
Ministry  should  be  out- voted.  He  now  sent  a letter  to  the  King, 
by  the  Chancellor’s  hands,  to  be  delivered  before  the  debate  ; and 
in  this  letter  he  placed  his  services  unreservedly  at  the  King's 
command,  if  they  should  be  desired.  “ It  is  done,”5  he  told  his 
friend,  Lord  Malmesbury.  Plis  health  and  his  enjoyment  of  re- 
pose, out  of  office,  would  have  made  him  infinitely  prefer  his  late 
and  present  position  ; but,  after  what  had  happened,  two  years 
before,  he  was  happy  to  be  aiding  in  relieving  the  King ; and, 

1 Hansard,  i.  p.  542.  2 Ibid.  p.  927. 

8 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  ii.  p.  268.  4 Life  of  Lord  Eldon,  i.  p.  438. 

6 Diaries,  iv.  p.  302. 


Chap.  V.] 


CONTEST  IN  THE  HOUSE. 


101 


seeing  what  was  now  before  his  eyes,  he  knew  it  was  high  time 
that  some  one  was  saving  the  country.  — It  appears  that,  proba- 
bly through  Mr.  Addington’s  advice,  Mr.  Pitt’s  letter  was  not 
delivered  to  the  King  till  after  the  division,  and  the  Ministerial 
resignations  which  it  brought  on.  But,  as  its  date  was  unques- 
tionable, this  mattered  little. 

It  was  on  the  day  of  the  grand  debate  that  the  King  held  his 
first  council  since  his  illness,  signing  proclamations  for  the  gen- 
eral fast  on  the  25th  of  May,  and  thus  showing  to  the  world  that 
he  was  to  hold  his  place  in  the  important  business  next  to  be 
done. 

On  the  23d,  the  rush  of  the  citizens  to  the  House  showed  how 
great  was  the  popular  expectation  from  the  debate  of  the  night. 
Mr.  Fox,  in  a quiet  speech,  full  of  substance,  moved,  a revision  of 
the  bills  for  the  defence  of  the  country,  and  the  consideration  of 
measures  to  improve  the  state  of  defence.1  Mr.  Pitt  supported 
the  motion,  and  accused  the  ministers  of  not  having  acted  upon 
their  own  admission  that  the  peace  was  a mere  notice  of  the  pres- 
ent war,  and  of  having  “ brought  forward  nothing  in  which  there 
has  not  been  a variety  of  contradictions  in  the  plans,  repugnancies 
in  the  measures,  and  imbecility  in  the  execution  ; nothing  in 
which  every  step  has  not  been  marked  by  unnecessary  delay  ; 
and  at  last  the  measure  adopted  amounted  almost  to  a retracta- 
tion of  the  principle  on  which  it  was  founded.”  No  one  could 
well  go  beyond  this  in  censuring  the  ministry ; and  there  was  no 
part  of  the  long  and  vigorous  speech  which  treated  them  with 
more  tenderness.  One  member  of  Administration  after  another, 
however,  defended,  not  the  government,  but  particular  portions 
of  the  preparations  for  defence,  till  the  Attorney- General,  Mr. 
Perceval,  took  up  the  subject  where  Mr.  Pitt  had  thrown  it,  and 
treated  the  debate  as  one  of  confidence  or  the  contrary  in  minis- 
ters. But  Mr.  Perceval  was  no  match  for  Pitt,  Fox,  and  Wind- 
ham ; and  his  vulgar  personalities  answered  no  other  purpose 
than  to  call  up  the  great  men  in  triumphant  reply.  At  nearly 
four  in  the  morning,  the  division  took  place,  the  numbers  being 
204  to  256,  leaving  ministers  a majority  of  only  52.  This  was 
decisive.  They  could  not  go  on,  when  204  members  had  re- 
corded their  want  of  confidence  in  ministers;  and  on  the  26th, 
Mr.  Addington  resigned. 

Some  friends  of  both  parties  still  hoped  that  Pitt  and  Addington 
might  be  induced  to  act  together;  but  this  was  quite  Ministerial 
out  of  the  question.  Mr.  Pitt  must  be  paramount ; and  negotia- 
Mr.  Addington  could  not  be  asked  to  take  a lower  tl0ns* 
seat,  after  being  removed  from  the  higher  one  on  the  ground 
of  incapacity.  At  least,  so  it  was  thought  at  this  date.  The 
1 Hansard,  ii.  pp.  205-224. 


102 


THE  KING  AND  MR.  PITT. 


[Book  I 


poor  King  behaved  in  a way  which  is  touching  to  read  of — wav- 
ering between  the  weakness  of  disease  and  the  strength  of  his 
own  resolution  to  do  what  was  right  in  such  a crisis.  When  his 
minister’s  resignation  and  Mr.  Pitt’s  offer  of  service  were  pre- 
sented to  him,  he  was  at  first  angry,  as  well  as  annoyed  ; but, 
presently  recollecting  himself,1  he  said  that  it  would  be  ingrat- 
itude to  Providence  to  give  way  to  impatience,  and  a failure  of 
duty  to  the  nation  to  indulge  personal  feelings  and  prejudices ; 
and  he  became  suddenly  calm,  and  listened  placidly  to  all  that 
was  said.  He  even  expressed  confidence  in  Mr.  Pitt,  to  the 
extreme  point  of  feeling  sure  that  the  coronation  oath  was  safe 
in  his  hands.  This  self-control  could  not  be  expected  to  remain 
unbroken.  On  the  5th  of  May,  he  had  not  seen  Mr.  Pitt,  but 
only  received  letters  from  him,  in  regard  to  one  of  which  he  wrote 
to  the  Chancellor,  somewhat  testily.2  “ The  King  doubts  much 
whether  Mr.  Pitt  will,  after  weighing  the  contents  of  the  paper 
delivered  this  day  to  him  by  Lord  Eldon,  choose  to  have  a per- 
sonal interview  with  his  Majesty ; but  whether  he  will  not 
rather  prepare  another  essay,  containing  as  many  empty  words 
and  little  information  as  the  one  he  had  before  transmitted. 
The  Chancellor  could  not  show  this  to  Mr.  Pitt ; and  it  was 
awkward  that  there  should  be  no  adequate  reply  to  Mr.  Pitt’s 
letter,  as  it  contained  proposals  of  a very  wide  scope  as  to 
how  and  by  whom  the  government  might  be  carried  on.  For 
a whole  week,  things  were  at  a stand.  Mr.  Addington  com- 
plained of  having  been  betrayed  by  the  Chancellor,  and  Mr. 
Pitt  knew  not  in  the  least  what  to  expect.  In  opera-boxes  it 
began  to  be  rumored  that  the  ministers  would  yet  stand  their 
ground ; and  in  private,  statesmen  agreed  over  their  wine  that 
Napoleon  was  certainly  unable  to  invade  England,  or  he  would 
have  done  it  at  this  critical  time.  The  watchers  on  the  cliffs 
redoubled  their  vigilance,  and  the  beacons  were  kept  ready  to 
be  lighted  with  a touch  ; but  there  was  no  more  appearance  of 
the  French  gun-boats  than  if  they  had  been,  like  the  English, 
broken  up,  and  sold  for  next  to  nothing,  at  the  peace  of  Amiens. 

It  needed  only  for  the  statesman  and  his  old  master  to  meet 
for  them  to  be  as  of  old.  On  the  7th  of  May,  when  Mr.  Pitt 
was  at  breakfast,  the  Chancellor  came  in,  charged  with  the  King’s 
command  that  Mr.  Pitt  should  return  with  him.  It  was  with 
some  apprehensiveness  that  Mr.  Pitt  found,  at  the  door  of  the 
apartment,3  that  no  witness  was  to  be  present ; neither  the  Chan- 
cellor, nor  the  physician,  who,  as  the  Prince  of  Wales  had  been 
giving  out,  was  always  wanted  to  keep  the  King  in  order.  They 
were  together  more  than  three  hours  ; and  Mr.  Pitt  came  out 

1 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  303.  2 Life  of  Lord  Eldon,  i.  p.  443. 

8 Ibid.  446. 


Chap.  V.] 


THE  NEW  MINISTRY. 


103 


full  of  joyful  surprise  at  the  calmness  and  clearness  of  the  King’s 
mind.  “ He  had  never  been  so  baffled  by  him  in  any  conversa- 
tion he  had  had  with  him  in  his  life.”  The  King  refused  to  ad- 
mit Fox  — to  have  anything  to  do  with  him.  Fox  was  prepared 
for  this,  and  had  acquiesced  in  Mr.  Pitt’s  determination  not  to 
force  any  one  upon  the  King.  Lord  Grenville  was  invited ; but, 
to  Pitt’s  great  indignation,  he  would  not  come  in  without  Fox. 
Pitt  thought  it  a time  when  men  should  serve  without  making 
conditions ; 1 and  he  declared  he  would  teach  that  proud  man 
that,  in  the  service  and  confidence  of  the  King,  he  cou'd  do  with- 
out him,  even  if  it  should  cost  him  his  life,  which,  from  his  state 
of  health,  he  thought  it  might  do.  — On  the  9th,  the  King  w as 
not  so  well ; but  there  wras  nothing  which  need  delay  the  ar- 
rangement of  affairs.  On  the  10th,  Mr.  Pitt  received  the  seals, 
just  surrendered  by  Addington.  The  kind-hearted  King  wrote 
to  the  Chancellor  that  he  saw  that  Mr.  Addington’s  mind  wras 
perplexed  between  returning  affection  for  Mr.  Pitt,  and  sore- 
ness at  the  contemptuous  treatment  he  had  met  with  in  parlia- 
ment from  his  old  friend ; their  patronizing  master  therefore 
determined  to  keep  them  asunder  for  a time,  and  encouraged 
Addington  to  go  down  into  the  country  and  rest  himself. 

The  ministerial  changes  were  not  extensive.  Mr.  Pitt  him- 
self was  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer.2  The  ministers  New  admin- 
wrho  were  in  charge  of  the  defence  of  the  country,  Mr.  istration. 
Yorke  and  Lord  St.  Vincent,  of  course  retired;  and  the  Foreign 
and  Colonial  Secretaries,  Lords  HawLesbury  and  Hobart,  vacated 
their  places.  Lord  Harrowby  became  Foreign,  and  Lord  Cam- 
den Colonial  Secretary ; and  Lord  Hawkesbury  came  in  again, 
as  successor  to  Mr.  YTorke,  as  Home  Secretary.  Lord  Mulgrave 
had  a seat  in  the  Cabinet,  succeeding  Lord  Pelham  as  Chancellor 
of  the  Duchy  of  Lancaster.  Those  who  remained  from  the  for- 
mer ministry  were  the  Lord  Chancellor  Eldon,  the  Duke  of 
Portland,  as  President  of  the  Council ; the  Earls  of  Westmore- 
land and  Chatham  (the  last  being  Mr.  Pitt’s  own  brother),  and 
Lord  Castlereagh,  as  President  of  the  Board  of  Control.  The 
new  appointment  which,  from  its  issue,  has  the  strongest  interest 
for  us,  was  that  of  Pitt’s  old  friend  and  colleague,  Henry  Dun- 
das,  now7  Lord  Melville,  who  went  to  the  Admiralty.  At  the 
time,  it  wras  difficult  to  understand  this  appointment ; a lapse  ol 
years  has  not  explained  it.  There  was  no  single  appointment 
which,  under  the  circumstances,  involved  Mr.  Pitt’s  credit  in  an 
equal  degree.  His  attacks  on  the  naval  administration  of  Lord 
St.  Vincent  had  chiefly  occasioned  his  return  to  power ; and  the 
world  had  a right  to  expect  from  him  that  he  would  so  fill  the 
office  as  to  show  how  it  ought  to  be  administered,  at  a crisis  in 

1 Life  of  Lord  Eldon,  i.  p.  449.  2 Annual  Register,  1804,  p.  122. 


104 


POSITION  OF  MR.  PITT. 


[Book  L 


the  national  history  which  made  the  very  existence  of  the  nation 
chiefly  dependent  on  good  management  at  the  Admiralty  Board. 
What  Lord  Melville’s  administration  was,  we  shall  have  occasion 
to  see  hereafter. 

Now  then,  the  statesman  who  was  “rampant  about  setting 
Position  of  Europe  to  rights,  after  providing  for  our  vindication 
Mr.  Pitt.  at  home,”  had  an  opportunity  of  showing  what  he 
could  do.  The  dangers  amidst  which  he  stood  were  terrible ; 
but  his  sanguine  spirit  and  his  lofty  self-confidence  enabled  him 
to  face  the  prospect,  whether  or  not  they  might  suffice  to  bear  him 
through.  His  sovereign  was  not  sane,  and  might  become  so  mad 
at  any  moment  as  to  render  a regency  necessary  ; and  the  re- 
gency of  the  Prince  of  Wales  would  be  as  perplexing  and  embar- 
rassing to  the  Minister  as  the  madness  of  the  King.  Mr.  Pitt’s 
own  health  was  such  as  to  make  himself  aware,  as  has  been  seen, 
that  his  life  might  be  the  cost  of  his  maintaining  his  place  under 
the  opposition  of  Lord  Grenville.  During  a whole  year  of  war, 
nothing  had  been  done  but  gaining  some  French  and  Dutch  col- 
onies in  the  West  Indies  ; and  some  bad  news  had  arrived  which 
shook  other  people’s  nerves,  if  it  was  not  too  much  for  his.  The 
Apollo  frigate,  and  the  greater  part  of  her  convoy  to  the  West 
Loss  of  West  Indies,  were  wrecked  on  the  2d  of  April,  off  the  coast 
India  ships.  0f  Portugal.1  With  difficulty  twenty-nine  of  the  ves- 
sels were  saved,  and  sent  on  their  way  ; but  forty  sail  of  richly- 
laden  merchant-vessels  were  lost,  and  more  than  five  hundred 
seamen,  besides  the  frigate,  with  her  captain,  many  of  her  officers, 
and  sixty  of  her  crew.  How  the  disaster  occurred  has  never 
been  properly  explained,  but  it  was  a heavy  blow,  at  a time 
when  the  country  could  ill  bear  commercial  adversity. 

Such  aid  as  the  M mister  could  derive  from  Napoleon’s  evil 
incidents  in  deeds,  and  the  popular  hatred  of  them  in  England,  he 
France.  had  to  the  fuR#  ln  the  last  February,  our  old  diplo- 
matist, Lord  Malmesbury,  was  informed,  in  confidence,  of  a plot 
to  restore  the  Bourbons,2  which  he  was  told  could  not  fail.  The 
plans  laid  were  extensive ; and  the  secret  was  believed  to  have 
been  well  kept.  It  was  not  well  kept,  however,  some  traitors 
having  been  admitted  to  confidence.  General  Pichegru,  a de- 
voted loyalist,  was  the  leader ; and  he  went  abroad  in 
January.  At  Paris,  he  had  interviews  with  Moreau, 
one  of  Napoleon’s  generals.  It  was  alleged  that  the  assassination 
of  Napoleon  was  a part  of  the  scheme ; this  was  denied  by  the 
conspirators,  and  by  Napoleon’s  own  secretary,  Bourrienne.  Mo- 
reau escaped  to  Germany  ; Georges,  a leading  conspirator,  was 
executed  at  Paris ; and  Pichegru  was  thrown  into  prison.  As 
the  plot  was  known  to  some  persons  of  high  influence  in  England, 
1 Annual  Register,  1804,  p.  135.  2 Diaries,  iv.  p.  293. 


Pichegru. 


Chap.  V.]  PLOTS  TO  RESTORE  THE  BOURBONS. 


105 


and  supported  by  them,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the 
French  people,  in  a time  of  war,  imputed  to  the  English  nation, 
who  were  harboring  and  cherishing  the  Bourbons,  the  design  of 
getting  rid  of  their  great  enemy  by  assassination  ; and,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  mysterious  death  of  Fichegru,  of  whose  plot  the 
English  nation  knew  nothing  whatever,  caused  a general  belief 
that  Napoleon  got  rid  of  his  enemies  by  murdering  them  in  pris- 
on. Fichegru  was  found,  on  the  morning  of  the  6th  of  April, 
strangled  by  a black  silk  handkerchief  and  a stick.  A commis- 
sion was  appointed  to  inquire  into  the  circumstances  of  his  death  ; 
and  they  reported  that  he  appeared  to  have  committed  suicide. 
There  was  sufficient  improbability  in  the  case  to  give  rise  to  a 
suspicion  that  he  was  murdered;  and  the  matter  was  never 
cleared  up.1  Lord  Malmesbury  says,  that  when  the  plot  was 
secure,  and  certain  successes  gained,  “ Lord  Hertford  was  to 
appear  in  the  double  character  of  making  peace,  and  restoring 
the  old  dynasty.’’  If  this  is  true,  and  such  interference  with  the 
government  of  a foreign  nation  was  one  of  the  methods  of  a war 
in  which  England  had  as  yet  gained  no  credit  in  open  conflict, 
we  cannot  wonder  at  any  degree  of  hatred  entertained  in  France 
against  the  British.2  At  the  same  time,  our  national  character 
was  committed  by  our  Minister  at  Munich,  Mr.  Drake,  Mr  Drake 
who  was  tempted  into  an  intrigue  for  overturning  the 
government  of  France  by  a man,  Mehu  de  la  Touche,  who  pro- 
fessed to  be  an  agent  of  the  royalists,  but  was  in  fact  a spy 
of  Napoleon’s.  When  he  had  drawn  in  Mr.  Drake  far  enough, 
their  correspondence  was  intercepted,  and  Mr.  Drake’s  letters 
were  published  at  Paris.  This  correspondence  is  called  “ absurd  ” 
by  Lord  Malmesbury,  because  it  failed ; but  not  the  less  did  it 
tell  against  the  character  of  the  English  at  Paris  ; and  the  hatred 
on  both  sides  was  aggravated  accordingly.  — The  English  detes- 
tation of  Napoleon  had  presently  a better  justification. 

The  only  son  of  the  Due  de  Bourbon  and  the  grandson  of  the 
Prince  de  Conde.  the  young  Due  d’Enghien,  settled  in  duc  <PEn- 
Baden,  instead  of  joining  his  relatives  in  England,  shien- 
and  lived  quietly  at  Ettenheim,  passing  his  time  in  study,  garden- 
ing, and  hunting.  Napoleon  had  been  heard  to  say  that  this  was 
the  only  one  of  the  Bourbons  from  whom  he  had  anything  to 
dread;  and  his  residence  so  near  the  French  frontier,  allowing  of 
his  obtaining  information  about  France,  which  he  could  report 
to  England,  his  popularity  from  his  high  character,  and  the  influ- 
ence of  his  ancient  name,  rendered  the  apprehensions  of  the  new 
ruler  of  France  reasonable  enough.  The  Prince  was  afterwards 
declared  by  Napoleon  to  have  been  implicated  in  Pichegru’s 
plot,  and  other  conspiracies ; but  no  sufficient  evidence  of  the 
1 Diaries,  iv.  p.  293.  2 Alison’s  History  of  Europe,  v.  p.  195. 


106 


FATE  OF  THE  DUG  D*  ENG  II  JEN. 


[Book  L 


charge  was  ever  produced.  A troop  of  horse  was  sent,  in  de- 
fiance of  all  international  obligation,  into  the  state  of  Baden  ; 
they  crossed  the  Rhine  in  the  night;  and  on  the  15th  of  March 
seized  the  Due  dEnghien  and  some  other  Frenchmen,  and  car- 
ried them  off  to  Strasburg.  On  the  17th,  the  Duke  was  con- 
ducted, heavily  ironed,  to  Paris,  where,  being  allowed  no  rest  on 
the  road,  he  arrived  on  the  morning  of  the  20th.  He  was  hur- 
ried on  to  the  Castle  of  Vincennes ; and  there,  at  nine  the  same 
evening,  he  was  brought,  worn  out  with  fatigue  and  hunger, 
before  a military  commission,  who,  producing  no  evidence,  con- 
ferred with  each  other  and  interrogated  him  for  two  hours,  at  the 
end  of  which  time  they  passed  on  him  sentence  of  death.  When 
sent  back  to  his  apartment,  he  asked  for  food  and  permission 
to  sleep  — so  great  was  his  exhaustion.  Yet,  when  presently  led 
down  to  the  moat  of  the  castle,  and  seeing  by  the  torchlight  the 
apparatus  of  death  waiting  for  him,  he  preserved  entire  calmness. 
He  thanked  God,  when  told  that  the  grenadiers  before  him  were 
Italians,  that  he  was  not  to  meet  his  death  by  the  hands  of  French- 
men, refused  to  have  his  eyes  bandaged,  because  a loyal  soldier 
does  not  fear  death,  and  directed  his  executioners  how  to  fire  so 
as  best  to  hit  their  mark.  Such  a fate,  descending  in  such  a 
mode  upon  such  a man,  was  enough  to  excite  an  enthusiasm  of 
detestation  in  England  against  the  adventurer  who  had  thus  cut 
off  a prince  so  noble  ; and  it  was  while  the  island  echoed  with 
the  dirge  of  the  Due  d’Enghien  that  Mr.  Pitt  again  stepped  into 
power,  “ rampant  about  setting  Europe  to  rights.”  One  of  the 
worst  incidents  of  the  case  is,  that  Napoleon  concealed  while  he 
could  the  death  of  his  victim,  whose  probable  fate  was  discussed 
in  the  Senate  on  the  22d,*  and  on  who-e  behalf  he  received 
petitions  twenty-four  hours  after  his  death.  In  this  instance,  he 
went  too  far  for  either  the  popular  admiration  or  fear.  He 
went  once  to  the  theatre  just  after  the  deed  became  known  : and 
as  soon  as  he  appeared,  half  the  audience  withdrew.  Throughout 
Europe,2  the  sensation  was  as  strong  as  in  England.  The  young 
Emperor  Alexander  of  Russia,  a fervent  admirer  of  Napoleon, 
could  not  endure  such  a deed  as  this.  He  ordered  his  Court  to 
go  into  deep  mourning,  and  sent  instructions  to  all  his  ambassa- 
dors abroad  to  follow  the  example  of  the  Court.  The  same  was 
done  at  Stockholm ; and  the  Emperor  of  Russia  presently  sent 
a strong  remonstrance  to  the  French  Cabinet  and  to  the  Diet  at 
Ratisbon.  All  this  put  power  — the  power  of  public  opinion 
— into  Mr.  Pitt’s  hands. 

His  entrance  upon  office  was  made  impressive  to  himself  and 
enoTVT"  °^iers  by  two  solemn  ceremonials  which  immediate- 
London.  n ly  succeeded  the  reinforcement  of  the  government. 

1 Annual  Register,  1804,  p.  377.  2 Alison’s  History  of  Europe,  v.  p.  192. 


Chap.  V] 


CEREMONIALS  IN  LONDON. 


107 


On  the  18th  of  May,  the  whole  volunteer  force  of  the  me- 
tropolis went  down  by  water  to  Greenwich  to  receive  at 
Blackheath  3 their  colors,  presented  by  the  magistracy,  in  the 
presence  of  the  Commander-in-Chief  and  many  hundreds'of  the 
highborn  and  powerful.  It  is  on  this  occasion  that  we  meet  with 
the  first  mention  of  the  Princess  Charlotte  of  Wales  as  appear- 
ing in  public.  She  was  now  eight  years  old.  She  stood  beside 
her  uncle,  the  Commander-in-Chief,  the  Lord  Mayor,  and  the 
standards.  At  the  final  review,  the  Duke  of  York  ordered  a 
royal  salute,  as  each  company  passed  the  little  girl.  The  colors 
swept  the  ground  in  her  honor  as  they  were  carried  by  ; “ which 
compliments,”  we  are  told,  “she  returned  with  a wave  of  her 
hand  from  her  bosom,  in  a very  attractive  manner.”  The  trou- 
bles which  overclouded  her  short  life  were  gathering  now  ; but 
she  was  too  young  to  know  much  about  them.  — The  other  cere- 
monial was  the  general  fast,  on  the  25th  of  May.2  When  or- 
dered, it  was  for  the  purpose  of  humiliation  on  account  of  the 
King’s  illness,  as  well  as  of  the  peril  of  the  kingdom  from  foreign 
foes.  Now,  the  form  was  changed  into  one  of  thanksgiving  for 
the  King’s  amendment  in  health,  while  the  lowly  tone  about  the 
national  dangers  was  preserved.  In  the  streets,  nothing  was 
heard  but  the  bells  of  the  churches,  except  when  the  gay  com- 
panies of  the  Volunteers,  in  their  bright  uniforms,  marched  to  the 
churches.  After  service,  the  shops  remained  closed ; and  the 
streets  were  more  silent  than  ever ; for  everybody  was  gone  to 
see  the  parading  of  the  volunteers,  who  spent  the  rest  of  the  day 
at  drill.  It  was  little  like  the  London  of  our  day  ; though  we 
may  hope  that  our  modern  London  would  show  the  same  alacrity 
of  spirit  if  a similar  appeal  should  ever  be  made  to  our  national 
courage.  — On  this  very  day,  while  the  citizens  were  saying 
“ Amen  ” to  the  thanksgiving  for  the  King’s  recovery,  the  Duk*; 
of  York  was  writing  to  Lord  Eldon,  as  Mr.  Pitt  did  the  next  day, 
on  the  alarming  things  the  poor  sufferer  was  saying  and  doing.3 
“ He  is  not  aware,”  wrote  the  Duke  of  York,  “ of  the  dreadful 
consequences  which  may  attend  him,  if  any  unfortunate  circum- 
stance can  be  brought  forward  in  parliament.”  He  had  talked 
about  some  unreal  and  absurd  plans  of  foreign  policy,  the  day 
before,  in  one  of  the  audiences  ; and,  as  everybody  might  not 
know  them  to  be  purely  imaginary,  they  might  fatally  increase 
the  Minister’s  difficulties,  at  his  entrance  upon  office. 

Such  were  the  circumstances  of  Mr.  Pitt’s  return  to  power. 

1 Annual  Register,  1804,  p.  535.  2 Ibid.  p.  390. 

8 Life  of  Lord  Eldon,  i.  453. 


108 


NAPOLEON  EMPEROR. 


[Book  I. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

If  Napoleon  had  not,  by  courtesy,  been  placed  on  the  list  of 
sovereigns  in  the  Court  Calendar,  he  must  now  have  been  so  by 
right.  There  could  be  no  doubt  about  acknowledging  him  after 
Napoleon  May,  1804,  for  then  he  was  made  Emperor  with  all 

Emperor.  formality.  After  the  discovery  of  the  Pichegru  plot, 

his  obsequious  Senate  told  him  in  an  address  that  he  ought  to 
complete  his  own  work,  and  that  splendor  was  of  no  avail  with- 
out stability.  After  consideration,  Napoleon  desired  the  Senate 
to  furnish  him  with  their  confidential  opinion,  “ whether  it  was 
desirable  to  make  hereditary  succession  the  basis  of  the  govern- 
ment of  France.”  The  Senate  consulted  for  four  days,  during 
the  latter  portion  of  which  time  the  leaders  were  warned  confi- 
dentially, that  if  they  did  not  make  haste,  they  would  be  fore- 
stalled by  the  army,  who  would  certainly  lift  up  their  General 
when  he  went  to  review  them,  and  make  him  Emperor.  The 
movement  had  begun  in  March.  It  was  on  the  18;h  of  May 
that  the  Senatus  Consultum  was  summoned  for  the  purpose  of 
proclaiming  Napoleon  Emperor,  and  the  dignity  to  be  hereditary 
in  his  family.  He  at  first  styled  himself  Emperor  by  the  con- 
stitutions of  the  Republic ; but  presently  exchanged  the  word 
“ Republic  ” for  “ Empire.”  Some  officers  of  his  army  resigned 
their  commissions  on  the  occasion ; but  on  the  whole,  the  change 
was  popular.  Louis  XVIII.  issued  from  Warsaw  his  formal 
protest ; 1 but  the  Pope  was  induced  to  go  to  Paris,  to  confer  the 
Crown  ; and  the  Bourbons  could  do  nothing  in  the  face  of  such 
a sanction.  The  coronation  took  place  on  the  1st  of  December, 
1804.  — Then  closed  the  best  part  of  Napoleon’s  public  life. 
Up  to  this  time,  the  good  wishes  and  hopes  of  the  best  men  in 
society,  both  abroad  and  at  home,  had  been  with  him  ; and  he 
had  so  far  respected  liberal  opinion,  and  wrought  for  the  real 
good  of  France,  as  to  justify  the  hope  of  the  wise  who  were  too 
far  off  to  be  aware  of  what  he  said  in  unguarded  moments.  It  is 
now  known,  however,  that  he  had  throughout  contemplated  war, 
and  meant  to  make  it  the  business  of  his  life.  At  the  time  of  the 
formation  of  the  peace  of  Amiens,  he  told  one  of  his  councillors, 
1 Annual  Register,  1804,  p.  680. 


Chap.  VI.]  MR.  PITT  AS  WAR  MINISTER. 


109 


in  a conversation  reported  by  Thibaudeau,  and  in  others  given  to 
us  by  his  own  secretary,  Bourrienne,  that  old  victories  lose  their 
immediate  effect  on  the  minds  of  the  people ; that  masterpieces 
of  art  are  the  delight  of  only  a few  ; that  public  works,  though 
glorious  in  the  eyes  of  posterity,  do  not  suffice  for  such  present 
popularity  as  was  necessary  for  him  and  his  new  state  ; and  that 
military  glory  was  indispensable  to  the  consolidation  of  the  empire, 
surrounded  as  France  was  with  open  enemies  and  resentful  vic- 
tims. 44  It  must  become  the  first  of  ail  states,”  he  said,  44  or  it 
will  fall.”  He  declared  that  he  considered  all  treaties  as  mere 
truces ; and  that,  though  he  intended  to  leave  to  his  foes  the 
odium  of  renewing  the  war,  he  was  secure  that  it  would  not  be 
long  before  they  would  resume  hostilities,  or  afford  him  a fair 
opportunity  of  doing  so.  There  is  thus  no  doubt  — and  men  pres- 
ently began  to  see  this  — that  Mr.  Pitt’s  first  and  third  opinions  of 
Napoleon  were  right;  and  that  the  intermediate  mood  of  hope 
and  relenting  was  an  amiable  error,  for  which  the  time  was  now 
come  for  him  to  atone. 

Those  who  knew  him  best  (not  too  nearly,  so  as  to  be  under 
his  fascination,  but  keen  observers  at  a sufficient  dis-  Mr  pitt  as 
tance)  were  grieved  and  alarmed  that  Mr.  Pitt  should  War  Minis- 
have to  cope  with  Napoleon  by  means  of  a new  war.  ter' 

What  kind  of  Peace  Minister  Mr.  Pitt  would  have  made,  there 
was  but  too  little  opportunity  for  knowing ; but  it  had  become 
pretty  clear  that  he  was  not  a good  War  Minister.  His  love  of 
peace  was  as  ardent,  and,  to  those  who  knew  him,  as  unquestion- 
able as  that  of  Mr.  Fox,  or  any  other  advocate  of  conciliation. 
He  had  the  high  spirit,  patriotic  instincts,  and  strong  will,  re- 
quired by  his  position  ; but  he  had  not  the  faculty  for  it.  Un- 
taught by  experience,  his  notion  of  the  continental  war  was  pre- 
cisely what  it  had  been  before : we  must  seek  continental  alli- 
ances ; we  must  subsidize  the  smaller  states,  or  aid  them  with 
loans.  Upwards  of  12,000,000/.  had  before  been  thus  paid  away ; 
and  the  states  so  aided  had  been  successively  conquered  and 
drawn  within  the  power  of  France  ; yet  this  was  what  Mr.  Pitt 
planned  to  do  again,  being  as  sanguine  as  he  was  before  44  about 
setting  Europe  to  rights.” 

His  first  measure,  brought  forward  on  the  5th  of  June,  was 
his  Additional  Force  Bill,1  by  which  he  hoped  to  ren-  Additional 
der  the  Reserve  a means  of  recruiting  the  general  army  Force  BUL 
by  an  annual  reinforcement  of  1 2,000 ; and  this,  by  a method 
which  would  lessen  the  enormous  bounties  created  by  a competi- 
tion between  men  enlisting  for  a limited,  and  those  for  the  gen- 
eral, service.  The  force  would  now  be  disposable,  in  case  of  its 
service  being  needed  abroad  ; and,  the  militia  being  reduced  from 
1 Hansard,  ii.  pp  483-493. 


110 


ADDITIONAL  FORCE  BILL. 


[Book  1. 


74,000  men  to  40,000  for  England  and  8000  for  Scotland,  and 
it  being  made  more  for  a man's  interest  to  serve  in  person,  it  was 
hoped  that  the  recruiting  would  go  on  better  than  hitherto.  It 
certainly  could  hardly  go  on  worse,  if  Mr.  Pitt’s  own  account  was 
true  — that  out  of  80,000  balloted,  not  more  than  2000  or  8000 
appeared  to  serve.  The  parishes  were  to  be  ordered  or  encour- 
aged to  furnish  the  requisite  proportion  of  men,  who  w<jre  to 
serve  for  five  years ; and  if  they  failed,  they  must  pay  a moder- 
ate fine,  which  was  to  go  into  the  general  recruiting  fund.  There 
was  to  be  no  compulsion  to  serve  abroad  on  the  men  who  enlisted, 
but  they  were  to  reinforce  the  regulars  at  home  ; and  it  was 
hoped  that  the  relation  thus  established  between  the  reserve  force 
and  the  regulars  would  naturally  lead  to  a more  easy  reinforce- 
ment of  the  troops  which  might  have  to  serve  abroad.  Such  was 
the  famous  Additional  Force  Bill  of  Mr.  Pitt;  famous,  less  on 
account  of  its  nature  than  because  it  served  as  the  rallying  point 
of  all  the  opponents  of  the  restored  Minister.  The  first  reading 
was  permitted,  after  some  adverse  speeches,  without  a division. 
Opposition  On  occas^on  °f  the  second  reading,  the  Premier  found 
his  own  relatives  and  old  comrades,  the  Grenvilles, 
against  him,  joining  their  influence  with  the  weak  and  aimless 
cavillings  of  Addington,  and  the  vehement  opposition  of  Fox,  and 
the  vociferous  rage  of  Sheridan.  During  the  late  debates  on 
this  Bill,  the  Minister  openly  expressed  his  surprise  and  disap- 
pointment at  the  treatment  he  met  with  from  the  Grenvilles ; 
and  the  conflict  was  as  vehement  a one  as  has  often  been  seen  in 
parliament.  The  second  reading  was  carried  by  a majority  of 
only  42  ; 1 and  there  were  crises  in  Committee  afterwards  ; but 
there  was  no  division  on  the  third  reading,  and  the  Bill  became 
law,  after  an  opposition  in  the  Lords,  carried  on  by  the  Gren- 
ville and  Addington  representatives  in  that  House.  Already  the 
Minister  found  what  it  was  to  have  the  proud  Grenvilles  against 
him. 

The  supplies  granted  by  the  Commons  before  they  separated 
Su  lies  amounted  to  between  53,000,000/.  and  54,000,000/. 

upp  ieS  On  the  7th  of  July,*2  the  King  had,  by  message,  desired 

a vote  of  credit  which  might  enable  him  to  defeat  or  disappoint 
any  enterprise  of  his  enemies,  and  to  meet  the  exigencies  of  the 
time.  When  the  Speaker  presented  to  the  King,  on  the  last  day 
of  July,  an  account  of  what  the  Commons  had  done,  he  said 
some  things  which  appear  surprising  to  us  who  feel  the  effect  of 
the  expenditure  of  that  time.  However  willing  we  may  be  to 
bear  it,  and  to  admit  its  necessity,  we  cannot  but  wonder  at  the 
view  taken  by  the  House  of  Commons  of  a matter  to  us  so  plain. 
“ In  providing  for  these  grants,”  said  the  Speaker,8  “ large  in 
1 Hansard,  ii.  p.  753.  2 Ibid.  p.  956.  8 Ibid.  p.  1147. 


Chap.  VI.]  STATE  OE  THE  COUNTRY.  — ALLIANCES.  1H 


their  amount,  and  commensurate  with  the  extraordinary  demands 
of  the  times  in  which  we  live,  we  have  nevertheless  steadily  per- 
severed in  our  former  course,  by  raising  a large  proportion  of 
our  supplies  within  the  year ; and  we  have  now  the  proud  satis- 
faction to  see  that  the  permanent  debt  of  the  nation  is  rapidly 
diminishing,  at  the  same  time  that  the  growing  prosperity  of  the 
country  has  strengthened  and  multiplied  all  its  resources.”  The 
Sinking  Fund  was  still  believed  to  be  paying  the  Debt  by  some 
magical  operation ; and  we  wonder  the  less  at  that  part  of  the 
Speaker’s  doctrine  ; but  his  mention  of  the  growing  National 
prosperity  of  the  country  is  remarkable.  During  the  condition- 
spring,  prices  had  so  far  fallen  as  that  wheat  was  at  49s. 

The  relief  felt  by  the  majority  was  less  likely  to  make  itself 
known  to  parliament  than  the  fear  and  anger  of  the  agricultural 
classes,  which  were  sending  up  loud  complaints  of  distress.  By 
the  time  the  Speaker  made  his  boast,  however,  those  classes  were 
somewhat  consoled,  for  wheat  was  rising.2  The  weather  had  been 
such  that  the  harvest  in  England  was  deficient  from  a fourth  to  a 
third ; and  before  the  end  of  the  year,  wheat  was  at  865.  2 d. 
These  fluctuations  were  bad  for  all  parties.  At  this  moment, 
when  the  prices  of  food  were  rising,  when  taxes  were  increasing, 
when  the  large  government  expenditure  had  considerably  raised 
the  interest  of  money,  when  there  was  a demand  for  soldiers  and 
sailors  which  encouraged  strikes  for  wages  among  operatives  and 
laborers,  and  when  our  foreign  trade  was  threatened  by  the  dec- 
laration of  a new  war,  it  may  be  doubted  whether  many  of  the 
manufacturers  of  Great  Britain  would  have  said  “ Amen  ” to  the 
Speaker’s  thankfulness  for  the  growing  prosperity  of  the  country. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  Address,  there  was  a reference  to 
the  States  of  the  Continent  which  seemed  to  point  to  continental 
a probable  alliance  against  France.3  The  Royal  Speech  alliances, 
of  the  same  day  disclosed  the  project  more  clearly.  The  last 
paragraph  indicated  “ the  reestablishment  of  such  a system  in 
Europe  as  might  rescue  it  from  the  precarious  state  to  which  it 
was  reduced.”  The  alliance  was  not  finally  agreed  upon  till  the 
next  spring,  but  meantime,  all  the  world  remained  informed  that 
such  a plan  was  under  consideration.  In  October,  Pitt’s  language 
“ concerning  continental  connections  ” was  more  full  of  hope  and 
expectation,  and  of  willingness  to  subsidize,  than  his  friend  Wil- 
berforce  could  quite  sympathize  in  ; 4 by  that  time,  the  recess  had 
allowed  him  his  own  way  for  many  weeks,  during  which  his 
spirits  had  risen,  and  his  self-reliance  had  shown  itself  equal  to 
what  it  ever  was  ; and  he  was  now  hoping  to  hear  of  mischief 
being  done  to  the  enemy’s  flotilla  off  Boulogne.  In  July,  the 

1 Tooke’s  History  of  Prices,  i.  p.  256.  2 Ibid.  p.  262. 

8 Hansard,  ii.  p.  1150.  4 Life,  iii.  206. 


112 


NAVAL  DISASTERS. 


[Book  I. 


inhabitants  of  our  southern  coast  had  believed  that  the  moment 
of  invasion  was  come ; and  they  showed  an  alacrity  in  their  duty 
which  gratified  the  Minister  and  everybody  else.1  An  acciden- 
tal fire  broke  out  in  the  midst  of  the  camp  at  Eastbourne.  Im- 
mediately the  fire  and  alarm  beacons  on  all  the  neighboring  hills, 
and  far  along  the  coast,  were  lighted,  and  every  man  was  at  his 
post.  — The  threat  of  this  flotilla  had  now  been  so  long  pro- 
tracted that  the  British  longed  to  see  an  end  of  it.  Twice  in 
the  month  of  August,  1801,  Nelson  had  endeavored  to  cut  out 
the  flotilla  ; but  he  sustained  more  damage  than  he  inflicted. 
He  declared  — what  the  French  papers  always  denied  — that 
the  boats  were  chained  to  one  another,  and  the  whole  to  the 
shore.  Various  attempts,  all  abortive,  had  been  made  since  ; 
but  this  season  was  to  repair  all  disasters,  and  the  Boulogne  in- 
vasion was  to  be  brought  to  nought.2  In  October,  some  attempts 
at  chase  and  capture  were  made,  with  no  result  but  mortification 
The  cata-  and  l°ss  ’ and in  December  the  Catamaran  Expedition, 
maran  as  it  was  called,  took  place.  Certain  vessels,  filled 
Expedition.  wj^  combustibles,  level  with  the  water,  or  below  it, 
were  to  be  sent  in  among  the  enemies’  boats,  and  blow  them  up  ; 
but  they  did  everything  but  what  they  ought  to  do.  They 
knocked  against  piles,3  could  not  get  up  to  the  point  of  attack, 
would  not  go  off  because  “ something  prevented  ” it,  and  passed 
quietly  through  the  enemy’s  fleet,  which  parted  to  let  them  through. 
Disasters  Nothing  but  mortification  resulted.  In  November,  the 
Romney,  a fine  ship,  was  wrecked  near  the  Texel,  and 
the  crew  captured  by  the  Dutch,  from  the  captain  having  taken 
some  wrecks  for  a part  of  our  Texel  fleet  at  anchor  ; and  four 
days  after,  as  the  fleet  was  clearing  out  of  Torbay,  the  Venerable 
— the  fine  ship  which  had  borne  Lord  Duncan’s  flag  at  Camper- 
down — went  ashore  on  some  rocks,  and  was  lost.  These  naval 
disasters  were  a sad  beginning  of  the  new  term  of  office  ; but 
the  Premier’s  mind  was  elevated  by  a high-handed  act  of  his 
own,  which  was  presently  reported,  with  comments,  all  over  the 
world. 

Since  the  rise  of  Napoleon,  it  had  been  a matter  of  serious 
Relations  anxiety  to  the  English  government  what  to  do  about 
with  Spain.  Spain.  To  each  successive  administration,  this  was  a 
knotty  point.  By  an  article  — a secret  article  — in  the  treaty 
of  St.  lldefonso,  concluded  in  1796,  Spain  became  bound  to  fur- 
nish to  France  a contingent  of  troops,  or  money  instead  of  sol- 
diers. The  Court  and  Government  of  Spain  were  now  among 
the  worshippers  of  Napoleon,  and  in  fact  his  tools.  The  people 
hated  their  Court  and  Government,  and  France,  and  wished  to 
be  the  Spanish  nation  once  more,  and  not  a misgoverned  people, 
1 Annual  Register,  1804,  p.  401.  2 Ibid.  pp.  557-8.  8 Ibid.  p.  561. 


Chap.  VI.] 


SPANISH  RELATIONS. 


113 


under  the  orders  of  Fiance.  Our  Minister  at  Madrid,1  Mr. 
Frere,  hoped  to  see  soon  a Spanish  revolution,  which  should 
make  Spain  Spanish,  and  should  secure  her  for  our  ally ; but,  in 
this  year,  a personal  quarrel  between  him  and  the  real  ruler  of 
Spain,  the  Prince  of  the  Peace,  caused  his  recall  — unnecessarily, 
as  he  thought,  but,  as  Mr.  Pitt  thought,  inevitably,  if  we  were  to 
hope  to  keep  Spain  in  a state  of  neutrality  between  France  and 
England.  It  was,  and  had  long  been,  the  object  of  Pmgland  to 
keep  Spain  neutral ; while  France  was  using  every  effort  to 
stimulate  her  to  hostilities.  To  preserve  this  neutrality,  England 
had  gone  so  far  as  to  let  Spain  understand  that  no  notice  would 
be  taken  of  her  supplying  money  to  France,  under  the  provision 
of  the  treaty  of  St.  Udefonso,  if  only  she  furnished  no  troops, 
and  took  no  further  part  whatever  in  the  quarrel.  Throughout 
the  first  months  after  Mr.  Pitt's  return  to  power,  Spain  could  be 
brought  to  no  satisfactory  point.  She  alleged  reasons  which  were 
not  credible  for  equipping  and  manning  men-of-war.  She  al- 
lowed a passage  to  French  troops.  She  would  not  furnish  an 
exact  account  of  her  obligations  under  the  treaty.  It  was  uni- 
versally believed  that  she  was  beguiling  the  time  till  the  arrival 
of  her  treasure-ships  from  her  American  settlements,  in  the  au- 
tumn, when  she  would  doubtless  devote  herself  and  her  treasure 
to  the  cause  of  France.  She  had  done  so  once  before,  in  1761. 
On  that  occasion  Mr.  Pitt's  father  had  desired  to  do  what  Mr. 
Pitt  meant  to  do  now.  Lord  Chatham  had  been  overruled,  and 
the  rich  remittances  of  the  Spanish  colonies  recruited  the  re- 
sources of  France.2  Mr.  Pitt  now  took  care  to  avoid  being  over- 
ruled, and  to  prevent  France  being  the  better  for  the  rich  remit- 
tances from  the  Spanish  colonies.  He  adopted  his  father’s  view, 
that  the  refusal  of  satisfaction  was  tantamount  to  a declaration 
of  war  by  Spain ; and  he  decided  to  dispense  with  any  other 
declaration  of  war.  As  the  time  drew  near  for  the  arrival  of  the 
treasure,  it  became  known  that  not  only  had  a great  armament 
been  long  fitting  out  in  the  port  of  Ferrol,  but  a considerable 
Spanish  force  was  collecting  there  ; and  it  was  soon  to  be  joined 
by  French  troops.  Upon  thL,  the  English  govern-  geizureof 
ment  acted.  They  sent  out  a small  squadron  to  cruise  treasure- 
off  Cadiz,  and  intercept  the  Spanish  treasure-ships.  smps* 

Why  the  squadron  was  so  small  — why  only  four  frigates  were 
opposed  to  four  Spanish  frigates,  so  that  fighting  became  neces 
sary,  when  an  overwhelming  force  would  have  caused  an  honor- 
able surrender,  on  the  side  of  the  Spaniards,  without  bloodshed, 
was  one  of  the  questions  perseveringly  urged  by  the  Opposition. 
As  it  was,  the  ships  were  four  to  four.  The  English  commander, 
Captain  Moore,  intercepted  the  Spanish  squadron  on  the  5th  of 

1 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  337.  2 Annual  Register,  1761,  p.  42 

VOL.  I.  8 


114 


SEIZURE  OE  TREASURE  SHIPS. 


[Book  I 


October,  as  it  was  making  all  sail  for  the  Bay  of  Cadiz,  and 
made  known  his  orders  to  detain  it,  and  his  desire  to  do  so  with- 
out bloodshed.  The  parties,  however,  presently  came  to  fighting  ; 
and  three  of  the  treasure-ships  were  brought  to  England.  The 
fourth,  the  Mercedes,  blew  up,  nine  minutes  after  the  action  be- 
gan; the  treasure  went  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  and  very  few 
lives  were  saved.  Among  those  lost  was  a group  whose  fate 
touched  all  hearts,  and  much  aggravated  the  feeling  of  those  who 
censured  Mr.  Pitt  for  thus  attacking  a nation  with  whom  we  were 
theoretically  at  peace.  A Captain  Alvear  was  returning  from 
the  colonies,  with  his  family  and  fortune,  to  end  his  days  in  Spain, 
after  an  absence  of  25  years.  He  had  laid  by  in  that  time,  £30, 
000  ; and  his  family  consisted  of  his  wife,  four  grown-up  daugh- 
ters, and  five  sons.  With  his  eldest  son,  he  left  the  Mercedes  at 
the  beginning  of  the  action,  which  must  have  appeared  so  incom- 
prehensible to  him  in  a time  of  peace,  when  he  had  believed  the 
seas  secure.  In  a few  minutes  he  saw  the  Mercedes  blown  up 
and  utterly  destroyed.  The  sympathies  of  the  world  were  with 
the  bereaved  man  and  his  surviving  son ; but  of  what  avail  were 
they?  Captain  Moore  gave  up  his  cabin  to  the  sufferers;  and  the 
government  repaid  the  £30,000 ; but  this  was  all  that  any  one 
could  do.  On  board  the  Spanish  vessels,  the  loss  of  life  was 
about  300.  The  English  lost  two  lives,  and  four  or  five  men 
only  were  wounded.  Besides  much  rich  merchandise,1  specie 
and  ingots  were  taken  to  the  amount  of  four  million  and  a half 


of  dollars. 

The  outcry  made  by  France,  and  by  Opposition  at  home,  on 
occasion  of  this  achievement,  may  be  imagined  ; and  it  certainly 
injured  the  reputation  of  the  country,  and  of  the  statesman  who 
ruled  her.  Many  who  did  not  know,  or  stop  to  consider,  that  the 
instructions  given  from  the  Admiralty  were  to  detain  the  treasure, 
and  not  to  begin  a war,  w ere  full  of  compassion  for  the  aggrieved 
country,  and  of  indignation  lor  the  assailant ; and  those  who  did 
understand  and  consider  that  detention  was  the  object,  thought 
that  it  was  badly  managed,  and  that  doubling'  the  number  of  ships 
would  have  saved  all  the  calamity  of  the  case,  and  most  of  the 
scandal.  In  the  midst  of  the  Premier’s  natural  anxiety  about 
meeting  parliament,  after  this  beginning  of  a war  with  Spain,  he 
was  deprived  of  a colleague  whose  assistance  could  ill  be  spared. 
Lord  [iar-  The  ^ oreign  Secretary,  Lord  Harrowby,  fell  down- 
rowby’s  si  airs  on  his  head,  early  in  December,  and  was  so  far 

retirement.  ]njurec[  as  to  be  unfit  for  office.  Lord  Mulgrave  suc- 

ceeded him,  and  prepared  to  take  his  stand  beside  Mr.  Pitt  in 
parliament,  to  justify  what  had  been  done  in  this  Spanish  business. 

It  was  understood  throughout  London  that  Mr.  Addington  was 


1 Annual  Register,  1804,  p.  556. 


Chap.  VI.]  PITT  AND  ADDINGTON  AT  ONE. 


115 


to  lead  in  a motion  of  inquiry  about  our  Spanish  relations  ; and 
that  Mr.  Sheridan  was  to  cooperate  with  him.  Hut  Reeonciiia- 
a reconciliation  was  taking  place  between  Pitt  and  ^ Adding- 
Addington,  by  desire  of  the  King,  and  through  the  ton- 
intervention  of  Lord  Hawkesbury.  On  the  1st  of  November, 
Lord  Hawkesbury  called  on  Mr.  Addington  at  Richmond,1  and 
was  so  agreeable  that  Mr.  Adding  ton  determined  to  “ keep  quiet 
and  aloof  ” from  party  in  parliament,  and  not  to  be  made  the 
stalking-horse  of  Opposition.  By  the  end  of  the  month,  he  and 
his  lady  dined  with  Lord  Hawkesbury;  and  in  a few  days  more, 
attempts  were  made,  by  offers  of  minor  offices,  to  connect  some 
of  Mr.  Addington’s  personal  friends  with  the  Administration. 
On  the  12th  of  December,  the  grand  move  took  place.  It  had 
been  found  impossible,  after  repeated  trials,  to  obtain  the  support 
of  the  Grenvilles  on  any  other  condition  than  that  which  the 
King  negatived  — the  bringing  in  Mr.  Fox  ; and  something  must 
be  done  to  fortify  the  administration  before  the  opening  of  the 
session.  To  bring  in  Mr.  Addington,  removing  him  from  the 
Commons,  and  thus  to  disengage  his  party  from  Opposition, 
seemed  the  only  thing  to  be  done ; and  it  was  done.  To  the 
amazement  of  the  world  of  London,  it  became  known  in  the 
Christmas  week,  that  Pitt  and  Addington  had  met,  and  become 
as  affectionate  as  ever;  that  Addington  was  to  go  to  the  Upper 
House  as  Lord  Sidmouth  ; and  that  five  of  his  friends  had  been 
invited  to  office.  He  himself  became  President  of  the  Council ; 
an  office  in  which  his  incapacity  would  be  less  mischievous  than 
in  perhaps  any  other  that  he  could  have  accepted.  The  weak, 
vain,  and  sentimental  man  appears  to  the  worst  advantage  at 
this  time,  in  the  letters  to  his  friends  which  appear  in  his  Life. 
Every  one  wiser  than  himself  and  the  King  seems  to  have  been 
fully  aware  that  he  was  (in  the  language  of  men  of  the  world) 
merely  a tool  of  Mr.  Pitt,  who  took  him  out  of  the  disgrace  of 
being  a tool  of  the  Opposition.  Some  of  his  friends  intimated 
to  him  their  anticipation  of  a rupture  before  long.  At  present, 
it  was  extremely  convenient  that  he  thought  the  Spanish  busi- 
ness, though  attended  with  some  awkward  circumstances,  “ strict- 
ly defensible.”  He  could  say  nothing  about  the  Defence  Bill  ; 
but  he  would  speak  up  in  justification  of  the  seizure  of  the 
treasure-ships.  By  this  arrangement,  Mr.  Pitt  lost  more  than  he 
could  ever  regain.  At  the  first  moment,2  “ it  was  strongly  dis- 
approved by  Pitt’s  intelligent  admirers ; and  lowered  him  a little 
in  the  City.”  As  for  his  opponents,  they  could  not  conceive  why 
he  had  thus  humbled  himself.  It  seemed  to  them  that  if  he  had 
steadily  resisted  the  King’s  predilections  in  favor  of  Addington, 
he  might  have  had  everything  in  his  own  hands.  Addington 
1 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  ii.  p.  325.  2 Memoirs  of  Horner,  i p.  28 J . 


116 


PITT'S  HEALTH  AND  TENDER  HEART.  [Book  I. 


could  not  have  been  forced  upon  the  country  as  leader;  it  was 
known  that  the  Grenvilles  would  not  come  in  without  Mr.  Fox; 
and  Mr.  Pitt  was  in  fact  the  only  man  who,  at  present,  could 
govern  the  country.  Perhaps  those  who  thus  decided  did  not 
know  all.  Perhaps  they  were  not  fully  aware  of  the  state  of 
the  King’s  health,  and  the  restraints  and  new  obligations  it  im- 
posed on  the  minister.  Perhaps,  in  the  midst  of  their  complaints 
of  Mr.  Pitt’s  inconsistencies,  they  were  unaware  of  one  source 
of  inconsistency  in  him  — the  melting  nature  of  h's  heart.  None 
are  more  subject  to  the  yearnings  of  affection,  to  the  visitings  of 
old  remembrances,  than  the  proud  and  self-willed  who  first  alien- 
ate their  friends,  and  then  go  a long  way  to  bring  them  back 
again.  Years  before  this  time  we  find  Canning  44  regretting  ” 
to  Lord  Malmesbury  that  Pitt 1 44  had  so  much  of  the  milk  of 
human  kindness,  that  he  never  would  punish  those  who  had  be- 
trayed him  ” ; and  now  we  see  him  walking  in  the  Park  with 
Wilberforce,1 2  who  reports  in  his  Diary  that  Pitt  said,  44 4 1 am 
sure  that  you  are  glad  to  hear  that  Addington  and  I are  at  one 
again  ! ’ And  then  he  added,  with  a sweetness  of  manner  which 
1 shall  never  forget,  4 1 think  they  are  a little  too  hard  upon  us 
in  finding  fault  with  our  making  it  up  again,  when  we  have  been 
friends  from  our  childhood,  and  our  fathers  were  so  before  us, 
while  they  say  nothing  to  Grenville  for  uniting  with  Fox,  though 
they  have  been  fighting  all  their  lives.’  ” Perhaps  Mr.  Pitt’s 
unaccountab’e  political  move  may  have  been  directed  by  some 
moral  impulse,  of  which  it  did  not  belong  to  Opposition  to  take 
cognizance.  The  imprudence  of  it,  in  the  view  both  of  the 
worldly  and  the  truly  wise,  looks  as  if  it  were  so.  The  strong 
and  self-reliant  can  never  safely  resume  a friendship  with  the 
weak  and  vain,  nor  the  magnanimous  with  the  petty.  No 
amount  of  traditional  or  habitual  affection  will  avail  against  the 
incompatibility.  The  reconciliation  was  not  likely  therefore  to 
be  a permanent  one.  It  lasted  only  a few  months  ; and  it  was 
Lord  Sidmouth  who  broke  off  their  connection.  Even  then, 
Lord  Sidmouth  records  his  testimony  to  the  kindliness  of  Pitt’s 
nature ; 3 44  he  took  me  by  the  hand,  at  parting,  with  strong  ap- 
pearances of  sensibility  and  affection.”  — In  judging  of  such 
cases  as  these,  health  should  always  be  considered.  At  the  time 
of  the  reconciliation,  Lord  Sidmouth  wrote,4  44  It  seems  to  me  that 
Pitt’s  health  is  in  an  uncomfortable  state.  His  spirits,  however, 
will,  I trust,  be  henceforth  more  tranquil ; and  in  that  case,  his 
health  will  improve.”  Lord  Chatham’s  liability  to  gout  descended 
to  his  son,  whose  health,  never  strong,  had  been  worn  and  weak- 

1 Diaries,  iv.  p.  28.  2 Life  of  Wilberforce,  iii.  p.  211. 

8 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  ii.  p.  372.  4 Ibid.  p.  332. 


Chap.  VI.]  CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  NAPOLEON. 


117 


ened  by  the  toils  and  anxieties  of  public  life,  to  which  he  had 
been  subjected  before  his  constitution  had  become  fully  estab- 
lished ; really,  not  long  after  he  had  done  growing.  For  some 
years,  now,  his  digestive  powers  had  been  wasting  with  a rapidity 
little  imagined  by  his  nearest  friends.  Before  his  splendid  speech 
on  the  slave-trade  in  1791,  he  had  stepped  aside  to  swallow 
medicine,  to  allay  the  violent  irritation  of  his  stomach  ; 1 and 
during  the  intervening  years,  his  complaints  had  so  grown  upon 
him,  that  now  a very  little  would  suffice  to  deprive  his  country 
of  his  services.  He  had  concealed  the  ravage  of  disease  partly 
from  himself,  and  much  from  his  friends,  by  the  free  use  of  wine, 
which,  of  course,  aggravated  the  mischief.  In  the  letters  of 
most  of  his  friends  at  this  time  we  find  anxious  mention  of  his 
health;  and  some  agreed  with  Lord  Sidmouth  that  easy  spirit 
would  be  his  best  medicine.  44  Much  will  depend,”  Lord  Sid 
mouth  adds,  44  upon  the  strength  which  government  may  exhibit 
at  the  opening  of  the  session.”  What  that  strength  was  must 
presently  be  tried ; for  Spain  had  declared  war  against  Declaration 
Great  Britain  on  the  12th  of  December,  our  minister  of  war  with 
having  left  Madrid  a month  before.  The  Premier  had  Spam' 
to  account  for  the  new  war  we  were  entering  upon ; and  the 
decision  on  that  question  would  exhibit  very  fairly  what  was  his 
parliamentary  strength. 

Before  entering  on  the  Spanish  business,  however,  the  House 
was  informed  of  the  arrival  of  overtures  for  peace  from  Napo- 
leon. The  Emperor  addressed  the  King  as  44  Sir  and 
Brother,” 2 in  a letter  which  professed  a desire  for  Napoieonm 
peace,  and  a conscientious  conviction  that  France  and 
England  abused  their  prosperity  in  perpetuating  their  quarrels. 
Under  this  conviction,  he  felt  no  shame  at  taking  the  first  step  in 
proposing  a reconciliation.  The  King  did  not  need  to  know  what 
we  now  know  of  Napoleon’s  late  conversations  with  his  coun- 
cillor and  others  about  his  deliberate  purpose  of  keeping  up  a 
war  with  England,  to  perceive  the  hypocrisy  of  the  present 
proceeding.  It  was  perhaps  as  clear  then  as  now  that  this  letter 
was  written  in  order  to  be  laid  before  the  French  Legislature, 
as  a justification  of  the  continuance  of  a war,  while  the  nation 
earnestly  desired  peace.3  The  King  of  England  wrote  in  the 
third  person,  and  spoke  of  Napoleon  merely  as  44  the  head  of  the 
French  government.”  He  declined  giving  a definite  answer  to 
the  overture  he  had  received  till  he  had  taken  counsel  with  the 
other  Powers  of  Europe,  and  especially  the  Emperor  of  Russia. 
The  security  of  Europe  was  involved  in  the  question  ; and  the 
King  of  England  was  44  engaged  in  confidential  connections  and 

1 Lord  Brougham’s  Statesmen,  &c.,  ii.  p.  19. 

2 Annual  Register,  1805,  p.  615.  3 Ibid.  p.  616. 


118 


THE  SPANISH  QUESTION. 


[Book  I. 


relations  ” with  other  Powers,  which  must  make  them  a party  to 
his  decision.  Here  was  a broad  hint  of  the  preparat’on  of  that 
continental  alliance  of  which  the  world  was  expecting  to  hear. 
The  overture  was  mentioned  in  the  Royal  Speech  on  the  15th 
of  January  ; 1 and  the  correspondence  was  laid  before  the  Legis- 
latures of  England  and  France. 

The  11th  of  February  was  the  day  fixed  for  the  discussion  of 
Spanish  the  Si >anish  question  in  both  Houses.  The  Declaration 
question.  0f  War  with  Spain,  laid  before  parliament,  and  pub- 
lished on  the  24th  of  January,  contained  a recapitulation  of  our 
grievances  with  Spain,  which  certainly  made  out  a case  as  strong 
as  that  of  our  relations  with  Holland.  If  war  was  unavoidable  in 
either  instance,  it  was  in  both  ; for  both  were  mere  agents  of  Napo- 
leon. Perhaps  the  strongest  point  of  the  explanation  was  that 
which  must  have  surprised  the  Opposition  ; 2 — that  during  all  the 
controversy  with  Spain,  from  September  till  the  middle  of  Novem- 
ber, and  again  from  the  departure  of  our  Minister  from  Madrid 
to  the  Declaration  of  War,  no  complaint  was  made  by  Spain 
about  the  seizure  of  the  treasure-ships  prior  to  a declaration  of 
war.  The  noise  had  been  great  in  France  and  England;  and 
the  notice  of  the  rest  of  the  world  had  been  fixed  upon  the  inci- 
dent ; but  Spain  made  no  complaint  of  it,  till  the  final  manifesto 
was  issued.  The  British  Minister  was  disposed  to  think  that  the 
Spanish  Minister  had  not  heard  of  the  event  while  they  were 
negotiating ; and  thus  it  was  clear  that  war  was  made  on  other 
grounds  than  that  particular  act  of  aggression.  Two  points 
besides  were  clear.3  Upwards  of  a year  before  the  present  time, 
the  British  Minister  at  Madrid  had  given  notice  that  if  the 
Spanish  government  did  not  discontinue  its  armaments,  and 
explain  its  precise  relations  with  France,  his  Britannic  Majesty 
“ would  want  no  other  declaration  of  war  than  what  he  had 
already  made.”  The  other  point  was  that  the  Spanish  govern- 
ment, in  its  last  manifesto,  protested  that  it  had  always  contem- 
plated war  since  France  had  declared  it,  — Spain  and  Holland 
being  conjoined  with  France  in  the  treaty  of  Amiens,  and  in 
political  interests  since.  Thus  fortified  by  evidence  that  the  war 
with  Spain  was  not  caused  by  the  seizure  of*  the  treasure-ships, 
Mr.  Pitt  and  his  new  Foreign  Secretary,  Lord  Mulgrave,  con- 
fronted parliament. 

In  the  House  of  Lords,  the  ordeal  was  not  very  formidable. 
The  two  principal  opponents,  Lords  Spencer  and  Grenville,  dif- 
fered on  tiie  main  point,  — the  necessity  of  war  with  Spain; 
Lord  Spencer  agreeing  with  the  government,  that  it  was  wholly 
inevitable ; 4 and  Lord  Grenville  endeavoring  to  show  that  Spain 

1 Hansard,  iii.  p.  1.  2 Ibid.  p.  131. 

3 Ibid.  pp.  127,  131.  4 ibid.  pp.  345,  356. 


Chap.  VI  ] 


NAVAL  MATTERS. 


119 


had  evinced  all  possible  eagerness  to  avoid  war,  but  had  been 
driven  into  the  arms  of  France  by  the  insolent  carelessness  and 
imbecile  delays  of  the  British  government.  The  address  pro- 
posed by  Ministers  in  both  Houses  was  an  echo  of  the  paragraph 
of  the  Royal  Speech  which  related  to  Spain ; and  the  amend- 
ment proposed  by  Lord  Spencer  in  one  House,  and  Mr.  Grey  in 
the  other,  cast  the  blame  of  the  war  on  the  Administration  ; and 
thus  the  question  was,  in  fact,  one  of  confidence  in  the  Ministry. 
In  the  Lords,  the  amendment  was  but  feebly  supported,  though 
the  debate  lasted  till  four  in  the  morning.  It  was  a rare  thing 
in  those  days  for  a debate  to  be  adjourned  ; so  rare,  that  we  find 
the  Speaker  thinking  it  necessary  to  explain,  that  the  member  pre- 
vented by  the  adjournment  from  speaking  had  the  right  to  begin 
next  time.1  It  was  two  o’clock  in  the  morning  when  the  House 
adjourned  ; and  six  o’clock  the  next  morning  when  the  debate 
concluded.  The  ministerial  majority  was  so  large  as  to  put  the 
stability  of  the  government  beyond  all  question,  being  207  in  a 
House  of  419  members.2 

In  this  affair,  whatever  fault  or  weakness  Mr.  Pitt  had  had  to 
answer  for  had  been  imputable  to  the  Administration  preceding 
his  own.  If  our  Minister  at  Madrid  had  been  left  without  in- 
structions, and  if  Spain  had  been  suffered  to  pass  under  the  influ- 
ence of  France,  it  was  during  Mr.  Addington’s  term  of  office. 
But  now,  an  inquiry  was  to  come  on  which  touched  Mr.  Pitt  much 
more  nearly.  The  most  important  appo  ntment  he  had  Navalad. 
made  was,  as  has  been  said,  that  of  his  old  comrade  and  ministra- 
intimate  friend,  Henry  Dundas,  now  Lord  Melville,  to  tl0n' 
the  Admiralty.  No  other  appointment  was  of  such  consequence  to 
the  nation,  under  the  circumstances  of  the  times  ; and  in  no  other 
were  his  own  feelings  so  implicated.  It  was  not  yet  a year  since 
he  had  poured  out  in  parliament  his  indignant  reprobation  of  the 
mismanagement  of  naval  affairs  when  the  fate  of  Great  Britain 
depended  on  her  remaining  mistress  of  the  seas ; and  now,  a far 
worse  condemnation  impended  over  his  own  Naval  Minister. 

On  the  day  after  the  favorable  vote  on  the  Spanish  business,  the 
13th  of  February,  the  Commissioners  of  Naval  Inquiry,  appointed 
under  Mr.  Addington’s  administration,  delivered  in  their  Tenth 
Report,  in  which  they  exposed  some  malpractices  of  Mr.  Trotter, 
Paymaster  of  the  Navy,  in  which  Lord  Melville,  while  Lord  Mei- 
Treayurer  of  the  Navy,  from  1784  onwards,  appeared  ville- 
to  be  implicated.  Mr.  Pitt  would  not  believe  a word  of  it,  as 
regarded  Lord  Melville,  and  censured  the  Commissioners  for 
bringing  forward  such  a charge.  Lord  Sidmouth  vindicated  his 
own  Commissioners;  and  again  the  old  friends  cooled  towards 
each  other,  through  the  rest  of  February  and  March.3  Lord 

1 Hansard,  iii.  p.  410.  2 Ibid.  p.  468.  3 Life  of  Wilber  force,  iii.  p.  217. 


120 


SUSPICION  OF  LORD  MELVILLE. 


[Book  I. 


Melville  had  never  once  spoken  to  Pitt,  or  any  one  else,  on  the 
subject,  during  the  whole  time  that  the  Commissioners  were  pur- 
suing their  inquiry;  but  the  Minister  was  aware  that  something 
was  going  on,  though  he  probably  anticipated  nothing  worse  than 
accusations  of  jobbing.  When  the  Report  was  brought  into  his 
office,  he  eagerly  seized  it,  and  ran  through  it  without  even  cut- 
ting the  leaves.  The  charge  was,  that  Mr.  Trotter  had  misap- 
plied the  public  money ; and  the  evidence  given  appeared  irre- 
sistible. That  which  Mr.  Pitt  did  resist  was  the  suspicion  that 
Lord  Melville  had  been  concerned  in  the  malversation.  He  took 
the  part  at  once  of  advocate  of  Lord  Melville  ; and  no  remon- 
strance, argument,  or  entreaty,  prevailed  to  induce  him  to  relin- 
quish that  position.  He  foresaw  that  Opposition  would  seize 
upon  the  occasion  to  displace  the  government  ; and  he  resolved 
to  uphold  his  comrade  and  his  Cabinet  together.  If  some  ac- 
counts are  true,  however,  the  two  men  were  scarcely  on  speaking 
terms  from  the  moment  that  Pitt  discovered  that  his  confidence 
had  been  more  or  less  abused,  and  his  government  dishonored,  by 
the  unscrupulous  carelessness,  if  nothing  worse,  of  Lord  Melville. 
He  felt  sure  that  Lord  Melville  had  pocketed  no  public  money ; 
and  he  considered  himself  bound  to  defend  an  old  political  col- 
league ; but  he  admitted,  and  strongly  resented  in  private,  the 
vicious  management  which  had  occasioned  the  charge. 

The  matter  of  the  Report  spread  abroad,  first  among  politi- 
cians, then  in  the  City,  then  in  the  country,1  then  through  all  Eu- 
rope. “ By  God,  Sir,”  protested  Alderman  Curtis,  “ we  felt  him 
in  our  market ! ” Mr.  Brougham  landed  from  a foreign  tour  just 
at  the  time,  and  was  wont  to  say  that  when  the  faults  of  our  gov- 
ernment rule  were  discussed  abroad,  he  had  fallen  back  on  the 
purity  and  high  honor  of  our  statesmen ; and  what  could  he  say 
henceforth  ? Mr.  Horner  declared  that  no  person  whatever,  in 
any  company,  doubted,  or  permitted  others  to  doubt,  that  Lord 
Melville  shared  in  the  peculations  of  his  subordinate.  It  could 
not  be  expected  that  Opposition  would  leave  such  a matter  un- 
Motion  of  noticed  and  unused.  Mr.  Whitbread  gave  notice  of  a 
ensure.  motion  of  censure  on  Lord  Melville,  which  was  dis- 
cussed on  the  8th  of  April.  Both  political  parties  were  sanguine 
as  to  their  obtaining  the  victory  ; a thing  which  appears  strange 
in  the  face  of  the  fact,  that  Lord  Melville  had  acknowledged  to 
the  Naval  Commissioners 2 that  he  had  permitted  10,000/.  of  the 
money  of  his  department  to  be  removed  from  the  Bank,  and  ap- 
plied to  other  purposes,  declining,  when  called  upon,  to  account 
for  the  sum,  on  the  grounds  of  his  having  no  materials  from 
which  to  make  up  an  account,  and  of  the  purposes  themselves 
being  of  a delicate  and  most  private  character.  After  this,  it  is 

1 Memoirs  of  Horner,  i.  p.  291.  2 12th  Resolution.  Hansard,  iii«  p.  278. 


Chap.  VI.] 


VOTE  OF  CENSURE  PASSED. 


121 


surprising  that  an  acquittal  can  have  been  looked  for  on  any 
hand  ; yet  it  was  believed  at  the  time  that,  but  for  the  conscien- 
tious Wilberforce,  Lord  Melville  would  have  escaped  without 
legislative  censure.  It  was  said  that  Wilberforce’s  speech  carried 
forty  votes.  His  kind  heart  would  fain  have  kept  him  silent ; but 
it  was  a question  on  which  his  conscience  must  overbear  his  feel- 
ings. Having  waited  as  long  as  possible,  in  hope  of  hearing 
some  valid  argument  in  defence  of  the  accused,  but  none  such 
coming,  he  rose,  late  in  the  night ; and,  as  he  rose,  he  encountered 
that  which  would  have  struck  him  down  upon  his  seat  again,  if 
there  had  not  been  something  nearer  his  heart  than  even  his 
reverence  and  love  for  his  friend  Pitt.  As  he  turned  to  address 
the  Chair,  he  had  to  look  across  Pitt,  and  met  those  penetrating 
eyes  which  it  was  not  easy  to  encounter  in  ordinary  intercourse. 
When  the  words  immediately  followed,1  “ I cannot  satisfy  my 
mind  without  saying  a few  words  in  support  of  the  original  mo- 
tion,” Pitt’s  countenance  fell ; and  as  the  speech  opened  out,  his 
agitation  became  too  great  to  be  concealed.  The  division  took 
place  soon  after  Mr.  Wilberforce  sat  down.  The  question  was 
between  the  passing  of  Eleven  Resolutions  of  Mr.  Whitbread’s 
and  the  resort  to  the  previous  question.  The  numbers  were  equal, 
— 216  to  216.  The  Speaker  (Abbott)  must  give  the  casting  vote. 
Sitting  white  as  a sheet,2  he  was  unable  to  do  so  for  ten  minutes, 
during  which  pause  the  suspense  was  very  solemn.  When  at  last 
the  vote  was  given  against  Lord  Melville,  Pitt  instantly  put  on 
the  little  cocked  hat  he  was  in  the  habit  of  wearing,  and  crushed 
it  down  over  his  eyes  ; and  a friend  who  sat  near  him,  Lord  Fitz- 
harris,  distinctly  saw  the  tears  trickling  down  his  face.  He  com- 
manded himself,  however,  to  struggle  for  some  modifications  in 
the  wording  of  the  Resolutions  which  would  abate  the  disgrace 
of  Lord  Melville.  He  had  small  success  ; and  his  colleague  was 
pronounced  by  vote  of  the  House  of  Commons  “ guilty  of  a gross 
violation  of  the  law,  and  a high  breach  of  duty.”  It  was  five 
o’clock  in  the  morning  when  this  conclusion  was  reached ; and 
the  House  stood  adjourned  over  the  next  day,  — a bitter  day  to 
the  Minister,  as  were  most  of  the  few  that  remained  to  him. 
There  was  little  chance  now  of  his  health  improving  through  im- 
provement in  his  spirits.  At  this  hour,  two  or  three  members  of 
the  House,  of  whom  the  despised  Col.  Wardle  was  one,  were 
heard  agreeing  that  they  would  get  near,  and  “see  how  Billy 
looked  after  it ; ” but  some  young  men,  ardent  admirers  of  Pitt, 
defeated  this  by  locking  arms  in  a circle  round  the  Minister,  and 
so  guarding  him  out  of  the  House,  safe  from  impertinent  eyes, 
though  he  was  apparently  unaware  of  the  service.  The  anxiety 
with  which  Lord  Melville  was  awaiting  the  result  till  past  mid- 

1 Hansard,  iii.  p.  317.  2 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  355  {note). 


122 


FURTHER  PROCEEDINGS. 


[Book  I. 


night  may  be  conceived  ; but  at  two  in  the  morning,  he  was  in 
high  spirits,1  having  just  received  a note  from  the  House  of 
Commons  which  assured  him  of  a large  majority  in  his  favor. 
Of  course,  on  the  passage  of  the  Censure,  he  immediately  re- 
signed. A letter  that  he  was  believed  to  have  received  on  the 
occasion  must  have  astonished  him  as  much  as  the  rest  of  the 
world.  The  King  expressed  regret  that  Lord  Melville  had, 
“ through  inadvertence,”  lost  his  office,  but  hoped  he  would  yet 
live  to  be  of  service  to  his  country. 

The  matter  was  not  allowed  to  rest  at  the  point  to  which  the 
vote  of  the  House  had  brought  it.  For  the  sake  of  public  prin- 
ciple, for  the  sake  of  the  public  service,  and  for  the  sake  of  the 
leaders  of  Opposition,  it  was  necessary  that  the  charges  of  embez- 
zlement should  be  more  juridically  established.  It  had  been  the 
Further  pro-  habit  of  Mr.  Pitt  and  Lord  Melville,  and  others  of  the 
ceediugs.  coterie,  to  treat  the  Opposition  leaders,  and  particu- 
larly those  of  the  second  rank,  with  extreme  insolence,  as  ob- 
structive of  the  national  policy.  Now  was  the  time  for  these  men 
to  show  what  they  wanted,  and  what  the  nation  ought  to  require 
from  its  public  servants,  and  how  ill,  amidst  vast  assumption  of 
patriotism  and  exclusive  loyalty,  the  country  might  be,  and  was 
really,  served. 

Mr.  Whitbread  2 followed  up  the  business  by  moving  that  an 
address  should  be  presented  to  the  King,  praying  that  he  would 
remove  Lord  Melville  from  all  office,  and  from  his  presence  and 
his  councils  forever.  He  was  induced  to  withdraw  this  motion, 
on  the  unanimous  agreement  of  the  House  that  they  would  go  up 
to  the  King,  and  lay  before  him  the  resolutions  affirmed  by  them. 
Mr.  Wilberforce  declined  joining  this  melancholy  procession,  not 
conceiving  that  duty  required  him  to  put  such  a force  upon  his 
feelings,  after  he  had  effectually  borne  testimony  to  the  principle 
of  the  case.  On  inquiry  from  Mr.  Whitbread,  on  the  25th  of 
April  (the  Easter  recess  having  intervened),  it  appeared  that  the 
Premier  had  not  advised  the  King  to  dismiss  Lord  Melville  from 
the  Privy  Council,  and  that  he  had  no  intention  of  doing  so.  But 
the  proud  minister,  on  consideration,  yielded  this,  rather  than 
allow  another  debate  and  division  on  the  point.  He  had  ascer- 
tained that  the  general  opinion  of  members  was  that  he  ought  to 
advise  the  King  to  dismiss  Lord  Melville  from  the  Council ; and 
he  had,  therefore,  done  it ; 8 and  the  name  was  to  be  erased  at 
the  first  meeting  of  the  Council.  He  said  he  was  not  ashamed  to 
acknowledge  that  it  was  with  a deep  and  bitter  pang  that  he  sub- 
mitted to  be  the  agent  of  increasing  Lord  Melville’s  punishment ; 
and  no  one  could  doubt  this  who  saw  the  countenance,  and  marked 
the  attitude,  of  the  sick  and  humbled  minister. 

1 Memoirs  of  Horner,  i.  p.  300.  2 Hansard,  iv.  p.  335.  3 Ibid.  p.  605. 


Chap.  VI.]  LORD  MELVILLE’S  DEFENCE. 


123 


He  had  more  trials  than  the  House  knew  of.  He  was  in  dan- 
ger of  losing  the  support  of  the  Addington  party.  Against  the 
wishes  and  advice  of  Mr.  Addington,  Pitt  proposed  to  appoint 
Sir  Charles  Middleton  — made  a peer  under  the  title  of  Lord 
Barham  — to  Lord  Melville's  office.  Lord  Sidmouth  wrote,1  “ I 
deplore  the  choice  that  you  have  made,”  and  resigned.  Mr.  Pitt, 
knowing  his  man,  would  not  lay  the  resignation  before  the  King, 
till  he  had  seen  Lord  Sidmouth.  He  went  to  him,  reasoned  the 
matter,  pressed  him  “ with  great  earnestness  and  kindness  ” to 
reconsider  the  matter,  and  wait  a little.  He  added  something 
truly  characteristic  of  both  men.  He  begged  Lord  Sidmouth  not 
to  write,  but  to  express  in  conversation  what  he  had  to  say. 
Lord  Sidmouth  replied  that  he  was  afraid  of  that,  for  that  Pitt’s 
manner  a good  deal  affected  him  ; but  that  his  mind  would, 
nevertheless,  remain  firm,  however  his  feelings  might  be  wrought 
upon.  It  ended  as  might  have  been  expected.  Lord  Sidmouth 
withdrew  his  resignation  for  the  time  ; that  is,  till  the  next  pet, 
which  might  probably  occur  at  a less  critical  moment. 

Mr.  Trotter  had  been  dismissed  by  the  Admiralty ; the  Naval 
Commissioners  had  received  the  thanks  of  the  House  of  Commons, 
and  returned  their  acknowledgment ; the  editor  of  a newspaper 
had  been  brought  before  the  House,  on  the  motion  of  Mr.  Grey, 
and  was  reprimanded  for  breach  of  privilege  in  his  audacious 
comments,  made  in  a judicial  tone,  on  the  proceedings  of  the 
House  against  Lord  Melville  ; it  had  fallen  upon  the  Liberals  of 
that  day,  the  Grey  and  Fox  party,  to  vindicate  the  privilege  of 
Parliament  amidst  taunting  inquiries  what  had  become  of  their 
love  of  the  liberty  of  the  press ; and  the  minister  had  obtained 
the  appointment  of  a commission  of  inquiry  into  the  War-office  ; 
— these  things  had  been  done,  when  the  further  proceedings 
regarding  Lord  Melville  were  decided  on.  The  Committee  pro- 
posed by  Mr.  Pitt  reported  on  the  27th  of  May.2  They  con- 
firmed all  the  former  charges,  and  pointed  out  the  case  of  the 
10,000/.,  of  which  no  account  whatever  was  rendered.  The  Peers 
gave  permission  to  Lord  Melville  to  present  himself  before  the 
Commons  to  explain  his  conduct.  He  presented  himself  there  on 
the  1 1th  of  June,  just  as  Mr.  Whitbread  was  about  to  move  for  his 
impeachment.  After  sitting  for  a few  moments,  on  a chair  placed 
within  the  bar,  he  rose  and  addressed  the  House,8  premising  that 
the  permission  under  which  he  was  there  allowed  him  to  explain 
himself  only  on  points  on  which  condemnatory  resolu-  Lord  Mel_ 
tions  had  not  been  passed.  His  address  was  able,  but  vine’s  de- 
far  from  satisfactory.  If  he  had  not  shared  in  the  con-  theCcom-°re 
venience  of  a public  fund  — and  most  of  his  hearers  be-  mons- 
lieved  that  he  had  not  himself  embezzled  money  — he  had  been 

1 Life,  ii.  pp.  358,  361.  2 Hansard,  v.  p.  121.  8 Ibid.  p.  249. 


124 


BREACH  WITH  ADDINGTON  PARTY.  [Book  I 


a party  to  proceedings  too  reckless  and  profligate  to  be  passed  over. 
To  the  last,  he  refused  to  say  a word  about  what  had  become  of 
the  10,000/.,  wholly  unaccounted  for;  and  the  general  supposition 
was,  and  is,  that  it  was  spent  in  some  secret  service  which  coul  1 
not  reputably  be  made  known.  Much  of  the  secret  service  of 
those  days  of  repression  of  political  opinion  could  not  be  made 
known  without  more  discredit  than  government  could  sustain. 
Any  service  which  must  he  kept  secret  on  account  of  the  exigen- 
cies of  the  war  might  have-  been  explained  to  a Secret  Committee 
of  Parliament ; but  Lord  Melville  did  not  desire  this.  He  sim- 
ply refused  to  give  any  account  whatever,  saying  that  he  was 
bound  to  such  silence  by  public  and  private  honor.  The  repre 
sentatives  of  the  people  did  not  understand  such  honor,  in  con- 
nection with  the  malversation  of  their  funds  (for  it  was  admitted 
that  the  money  was  not  spent  for  naval  purposes).  They  finally 
decided  to  proceed  by  impeachment,  after  having  voted,  by  a 
majority  of  nine,1  for  a criminal  prosecution  by  the  Attorney- 
General.  It  was  by  the  desire  of  the  Melville  party  that  the 
method  was  changed.  They  believed  that  no  jury  could  be  trust- 
ed, under  the  existing  excitement  of  the  public  mind.  On  the 
26th  of  June,  a deputation  from  the  Commons,  headed  by  Mr. 
Whitbread,  appeared  at  the  bar  of  the  House  of  Lords,  and,  in 
His  impeach-  the  name  of  the  Commons  of  Great  Britain,  impeached 
meat.  Lord  Melville  of  high  crimes  and  misdemeanors.2  A 

Bill  was  rapidly  carried  through  Parliament,  which  provided  for 
a continuous  prosecution  of  the  affair,  through  all  prorogations 
and  dissolution  of  Parliament ; and  then  ensued  a pause  in  the 
proceedings,  rendered  necessary  by  the  advanced  state  of  the 
season. 

There  was,  however,  no  pause  in  the  consequences  of  the  affair 
Resignation  to  Mr.  health  was  sinking  rapidly  under 

of  Lord  Sid-  grief  and  mortification,  and  the  final  breach  with  the 
Addington  party  was  taking  place.  They  actively  took 
part  against  Lord  Melville,  and  yet  expected  office  for  some  of 
their  group,  which  the  Minister  could  not,  under  the  circum- 
stances, give ; and  Lord  Sidmouth,  resigned  on  the  5th  of  July. 
On  the  4th,  he  and  Pitt  met  for  conversation  on  the  subject ; and 
it  is  clear  that  Lord  Sidmouth  expected  the  wooing  with  which 
he  had  been  repeatedly  indulged  before,  but  which  the  Minister 
seems  now  to  have  been  tired  of  offering.  kt  It  is  remarkable, 
Lord  Sidmouth  observed,3  “ that  neither  then  nor  on  Sunday 
did  lie  express  any  regret,  or  offer  any  remonstrance,  in  conse- 
quence of  t'ue  intimation  I gave  him  of  the  step  which  he  com- 
pelled me  to  take/’  When,  presently  after,  Lord  Sidmouth  was 
severely  visited  with  illness  and  with  family  misfortune,  Mr.  Pitt 
1 Hansard,  v.  p.  377.  2 Ibid.  p.  616.  3 Life,  ii.  p.  372. 


Chap.  VI.]  MAJORITY  AGAINST  THE  CATHOLICS.  125 


called  on  him,  and  showed  him  every  kindness,  forgetful  of 
political  discontents. 

The  Catholic  question  had  come  into  discussion  during  the 
Spring,1  on  occasion  of  a petition  from  the  Roman  catholic 
Catholics  of  Ireland  to  be  admitted  to  a full  participa-  <iuestion- 
tion  of  all  privileges  enjoyed  by  all  other  classes  of  his  Majesty’s 
subjects.  The  topic  was  one  now  most  painful  to  Mr.  Pitt ; but 
his  course  was  rendered  comparatively  easy  by  the  extreme  inju- 
diciousness of  bringing  it  forward  at  the  present  time.  The  Pope 
was,  to  all  appearance,  in  intimate  alliance  with  Napoleon.  If, 
as  was  supposed,  he  acted  under  compulsion  in  going  to  Paris  to 
crown  Napoleon  Emperor,  amidst  a vast  display  of  compliments 
on  the  one  side,  and  pious  blessings  on  the  other,  this  did  not 
mend  the  case  for  the  Catholics  in  Great  Britain.  The  Pope  was 
either  the  friend  or  the  helpless  tool  of  the  great  enemy  of  the 
British  nation  ; and,  in  either  case,  it  was  an  unfortunate  moment 
for  his  spiritual  subjects  to  seek  political  privileges ; and  a mul- 
titude who  would  have  supported  their  claim  at  an  earlier  or  a 
later  period,  were  unwilling  to  sustain  it  now.  If  Mr.  Pitt  had 
not  been  bound,  as  we  know  he  was,  never  more  to  stir  on  their 
behalf  during  the  King’s  life,  he  could  not  have  befriended  them 
while  invasion  was  understood  to  be  impending.2  The  majorities 
against  them  in  both  Houses  were  overwhelming  ; and  their  cause 
was  injured  accordingly.  Lord  Grenville  brought  forward  the 
question  in  the  Upper  House  on  the  10th  of  May,  when  the  de- 
bate lasted  till  four  in  the  morning,  and  was  then  adjourned.  It 
was  resumed  on  the  13th,  when  it  lasted  till  six  in  the  morning, 
and  ended  with  a majority  of  129  against  the  claim,  in  a House 
of  227.  On  the  same  day,  Mr.  Fox  opened  the  debate  in  the 
Commons,  which  was  adjourned  at  three  in  the  morning.  One 
other  long  sitting  finished  the  matter  for  the  present  year,  the 
majority  being  212  against  the  motion,  in  a House  of  460  mem- 
bers. Mr.  Pitt  entered  (as  it  proved,  for  the  last  time)  on  a full 
explanation  of  his  views  as  to  the  position  of  the  Catholics.3 
Without  being  in  any  way  pledged  to  the  support  of  their  cause, 
he  could  avow  that  he  did  not  see  the  dangers  to  the  empire 
which  some  dreaded  as  a consequence  of  their  admission  to  poiir- 
ical  privileges ; and  there  had  been  a time  — at  the  period  of  the 
Union  — when  he  had  believed  that  that  admission  could  take 
place  with  every  security  and  advantage.  But  unforeseen  obsta- 
cles had  then  arisen.  Those  obstacles  remained  ; and  others  had 
presented  themselves,  in  the  condition  of  Ireland  and  in  our  rela- 
tions elsewhere ; and  he  considered  it  inexpedient  for  the  Cath- 
olics themselves,  as  well  as  for  others,  that  that  great  change  in 
their  position  should  take  place  just  now  which  he  believed  would 

1 Hansard,  v.  p.  97.  2 Ibid.  pp.  843, 1060.  8 Ibid.  pp.  1013-1022. 


126 


PROSPECTS  OF  THE  WAR. 


[Book  I. 


be  safe  and  right  at  a happier  time.  No  express  allusion  could 
be  made  to  the  state  of  the  King’s  mind  ; but  the  Minister  indi- 
cated the  consequences  of  a vote,  at  such  a period,  against  the 
decision  of  the  other  House,  and  of  the  warfare  which  would  be 
stirred  up  throughout  all  classes  in  England  and  Ireland  by  the 
immediate  collision  of  Catholics  and  Protestants  in  the  field  of 
politics,  at  a moment  when  the  undisturbed  forces  of  society  were 
required  for  the  defence  of  the  empire.  At  the  time,  and  for  long 
afterwards,  it  was  considered  one  of  the  deepest  stains  on  Mr. 
Pitt’s  reputation  that  he  failed  to  support  the  Catholic  claims 
when  he  returned  to  power;  but  it  can  now  scarcely  be  dis- 
puted that  what  faults  he  committed  on  this  question  were  of  an 
earlier  date.  He  had  misled  expectation;  he  had  balked  rea- 
sonable hopes ; he  had  been  presumptuous  and  careless,  and  had 
caused  much  suffering  to  others  and  to  himself : but  all  that 
could  not  be  helped  now.  In  the  session  of  1805,  it  appears  that 
he  could  not  have  acted  otherwise  than  he  did.  The  vindictive 
or  sorrowful  reproach  that  he  incurred  was  an  inevitable  retri- 
bution for  former  fault  and  error ; but  it  was  undeserved  by  his 
latest  act. 

The  alarms  of  invasion  were  not  subsiding,  all  this  time. 
Prospects  of  The  French  gunboats  were  still  stealing  along  under 
the  war.  the  shores,  protected  not  only  by  the  batteries  above, 
but  by  their  small  draught  of  water,  which  prevented  the  British 
cruisers  from  reaching  them.  Napoleon  was  still  visiting  his 
infantry,  of  which  he  had  now  115,000  on  the  north  coast,  with- 
out artillery  and  cavalry.  He  was  from  time  to  time  reviewing 
his  troops,  and  animating  them  with  the  prospect  of  the  plunder 
of  London,  inspecting  the  boats,  and  practising  the  soldiers  in 
embarking  and  debarking.  If  this  was  not  earnest,  it  looked 
very  like  it.  It  kept  the  British  sailors  in  good  order,  and  on  the 
watch  ; and  it  is  clear  that  it  was  not  their  fault  that  the  numer- 
ous attempts  of  this  and  the  preceding  year  to  break  into  or 
break  up  the  Boulogne  flotilla  all  failed.  The  actions  were  en- 
tered into  with  spirit  and  bravery,  and  well  sustained ; but  the 
shallowness  of  the  water  and  the  admirable  skill  of  the  enemy’s 
dispositions  prevented  any  success  on  the  part  of  the  British. 
The  best  proof  of  Napoleon's  own  opinion  of  the  importance  of 
this  part  of  his  scheme  of  war  was,  that  he  found  time  to  look 
personally  to  the  discipline  of  his  Boulogne  forces,  while  he  had 
so  much  upon  his  hands  elsewhere.  War  had  been  declared  for 
more  than  a year,  and  it  seemed  to  the  people  of  England  that 
nothing  had  been  done.  In  June,  Mr.  Grey  moved  an  Address 
to  the  King,1  praying  for  information  as  to  our  relations  with  for- 
eign powers,  and  our  future  prospects,  that  parliament  might  not 
1 Hansard,  v.  p.  506. 


127 


Chap.  VL]  NAPOLEON’S  UNIQUE  WARFARE. 

be  prorogued,  leaving  the  nation  in  ignorance  of  its  condition. 
The  motion  was  negatived  by  a large  majority;  but  it  made 
known  the  wish  of  the  friends  of  the  people  that  they  should  be 
informed  whether  they  were  paying  their  heavy  taxes  to  any 
purpose,  and  what  were  the  prospects  of  the  war. 

Hints  had  been  repeatedly  given  about  continental  alliances  ; 
and  a continental  coalition  was.  for  the  third  time,  Mr.  Pitt’s  pol- 
icy. It  had  now  occupied  him  for  a year  ; and  “ never,”  as  Lord 
Malmesbury  thought,  “ as  tar  as  human  foresight  can  go,  was  any 
measure  better  combined,  or  better  negotiated.”  But  the  states- 
men of  Europe  had  to  do  with  one  who  set  at  defiance  such  fore- 
sight as  they  could  command,  and  who,  by  beating  their  forces  in 
the  field,  baffled  them  in  council.  When  they  had,  by  their 
united  wisdom,  elaborated  a plan  which  seemed  to  them  perfect, 
and  heard  from  their  generals  that  Napoleon  could  not  escape 
their  vigilance  or  their  vengeance  — could  not  turn  anywhere 
without  encountering  a foe  — could  not  do  anything  of  all  that 
he  purposed  — the  thing  was  done,  Napoleon  was  conqueror,  and 
the  councils  of  the  European  cabinets  were  scattered  to  the 
winds,  as  the  armies  of  empires  were  over  the  earth.  It  might 
be  true  that  wherever  the  enemy  turned  he  would  meet  resist- 
ance ; but  he  cut  the  matter  short  by  bursting  through  all  resist- 
ance. While  the  old-fashioned  captains  spread  out  their  forces, 
that  no  point  might  be  undefended,  he  collected  his  into  a com- 
pact mass,  and  drove  at  the  weakest  part  of  the  enemy’s  line, 
breaking  up  plans  and  armies  at  once  into  a mere  wreck.  It 
seems  to  have  required  some  years  to  convince  the  old  captains 
of  Europe  of  Napoleon’s  method  of  warfare,  and  to  train  and 
teach  them  how  to  meet  it.  In  1805,  they  were  so  little  aware 
of  it  as  to  be  as  full  of  expectation  from  their  plans  of  a cam- 
paign as  the  statesmen  of  Europe  from  their  plans  of  a coalition. 

As  for  Mr.  Pitt,  he  was  borne  up  amidst  the  humiliation  and 
griefs  of  the  Melville  business  by  his  secret  confidence  — the  bril- 
liant hope  which  lay  next  his  heart  — that  Napoleon  would  be 
crushed  in  the  autumn.  His  own  health  was  rapidly  failing,  and 
his  spirits  would  have  sunk,  but  for  his  talisman  of  the  Coalition. 
The  languor  of  illness  and  mortification  grew  upon  him  from  day 
to  day ; but  when  consulting  and  arranging  about  the  war,  he  was 
as  alert  as  ever.  “ Procrastination  in  one  whom  you  used  to  call 
the  General,”  wrote  Wilberforce  at  this  time,1  “ has  increased  to 
such  a degree  as  to  have  become  absolutely  predominant yet 
was  he,  about  continental  affa  rs,  peremptory,  punctual,  despotic, 
and  eager  as  ever. 

On  the  11th  of  April,  a treaty  of  concert  between  the  sov- 
ereigns of  Great  Britain  and  Russia  had  been  signed  mu  .... 

o o The  Allies 

at  St.  Petersburg,  by  which  the  contracting  powers 

1 Life,  iii.  p.  232. 


128 


FRANCK  AND  AUSTRIA  AT  WAR.  [Book  I 


agreed  to  put  an  end  to  the  suffering  of  Europe  from  the  en- 
croachments of  Napoleon,1  by  proceeding  against  him  without 
waiting  for  fresh  aggressions.  They  were  to  engage  the  states 
of  Europe  to  enter  into  a league  against  France  ; and  those  states 
were  to  furnish  an  effective  force  of  500,000  men,  independent 
of  the  force  which  Great  Britain  might  supply,  which  would 
naturally  be  chiefly  on  the  seas.  Money  was  also  to  be  dispensed 
by  Great  Britain,  in  proportion  to  the  forces  brought  into  the 
field  by  the  respective  allies.  The  objects  of  the  coalition  were 
to  compel  the  restoration  of  Hanover  to  the  English  King,  and 
of  Holland  and  Switzerland  and  the  north  of  Germany  to  inde- 
pendence ; and  the  evacuation  by  the  French  of  all  territory 
which  they  had  usurped  or  overrun  ; and  the  reestablishment  of 
the  balance  of  power  throughout  Europe.  No  one  of  the  Powers 
united  in  this  compact  was  to  make  peace  without  the  concur- 
rence of  the  rest.  — Amidst  professions  of  admiration  of  this 
treaty,  Austria  and  Sweden  still  held  to  their  hopes  of  peace  with 
France,  and  negotiated  for  it,  till  Napoleon,  in  the  summer,  an- 
nexed Genoa  to  France.  This  was  not  to  be  endured  ; and  on 
the  9th  of  August,  the  Austrian  Minister  at  St.  Petersburg 
signed  the  agreement  of  the  league.  Still  there  was  more  pretence 
of  negotiation,  — Napoleon  declaring  that  his  seizure  of  Genoa 
and  Lucca  was  only  in  anticipation  of  what  his  enemies  were 
about  to  do  to  him.  — By  September,  it  was  clear  that  Austria 
Napoleon’s  ar,d  France  were  going  to  war  in  earnest.  Napoleon 
arrange-  at  last  dismantled  his  Boulogne  flotilla,  and  drew  off 
ments.  ]^s  troops,  marching  them,  with  all  that  he  could  spare 
from  Holland  and  Hanover,  to  the  Danube,  to  meet  the  Aus- 
trians. A reinforcement  from  home  was  ordered,  of  80,000  men, 
to  be  raised  by  conscription.  He  had  already  strengthened  his 
army  in  Italy,  and  was  ready  for  the  Austrians  on  that  side. 
He  had  engaged  the  King  of  Naples  to  remain  neutral ; and  he 
had  thrown  a garrison  into  Ancona,  without  the  ceremony  of 
asking  the  Pope’s  leave.  He  well  knew  now  that  everything 
depended  on  speed.  He  must  scatter  the  wits  of  the  slow-moving 
Germans,  in  order  to  scatter  their  forces ; and  he  must  be  up  and 
at  them  before  the  Russian  army  of  120,000  men,  now  on  its 
march,  could  join  the  Austrians.  He  had  enough  to  do,  without 
w aiting  for  this  reinforcement  to  his  foes.  His  General  Massena 
would  take  care  of  the  Archduke  Charles  and  his  100,000  in 
Italy  ; but  there  were  85,000  men  waiting  for  him  in  Bavaria, 
under  General  Mack  and  the  Archduke  Ferdinand  ; and  35,000 
in  the  Tyrol,  under  the  Archduke  John.  He  had  with  him, 
when  he  crossed  the  Rhine  at  Strasburg,  on  the  1st  of  October, 
200,000  men.  Half  of  these  were  divided  under  three  generals, 
and  sent  to  cross  the  Danube  at  different  places,  and  possess 

i Annual  Register,  1805,  p.  139. 


Ciixp.  VI.]  ULM  TAKEN.  — VIENNA  APPEALS. 


129 


themselves  of  three  cities  — Munich,  Augsburg,  and  Dachau  — 
all  of  which  were  in  the  rear  of  Ulm,  where  General  Mack  had 
fixed  himself,  with  upwards  of  30,000  men.  Ulm,  with  this  Aus- 
trian army,  was  now  between  Napoleon  and  the  three  generals 
whom  he  had  sent  round  to  occupy  the  towns  in  the  rear  ; and 
the  Austrian  forces  were  helplessly  divided.  The  French  held 
both  banks  of  the  Danube,  and  the  bridge  over  the  Isar  at  Mu- 
nich. There  was  no  hope  for  Mack  and  his  army  but  in  the 
arrival  of  the  Russians ; and  Napoleon  was  not  one  to  allow  the 
necessary  time.  If  the  Russians  should  reach  Munich  before  he 
had  done  with  Mack,  the  three  French  generals  were  to  unite 
their  forces,  and  keep  the  Russians  in  check  as  well  as  they  could 
till  Napoleon  could  come  up. 

On  the  28th  of  October,  Mack  surrendered  Ulm,  and  his 
30,000  men,  and  all  his  artillery  and  stores.  In  every  General 
direction,  the  severed  Austrian  forces  were  intercepted  Mack’s  sur- 
or  pursued,  and  so  miserably  humbled,  that  the  story  render’ 
got  abroad  — and  the  Austrian  officers  themselves  were  quoted 
as  authorities  for  it  — that  the  Austrians  had  entered  into  the 
war  with  no  good-will,  being  discontented  at  seeing  a Russian 
army  marched  into  the  heart  of  their  country.  From  whatever 
causes  the  Austrian  imbecility  arose,  Bavaria  was  cleared  of 
Austrians  within  a month ; and  Napoleon,  now  the  invader  of 
Austria,  was  pushing  on,  due  east,  for  Vienna.  — The  Russians, 
at  length  arrived,  tried  to  withstand  the  invader,  on  advantageous 
ground  between  him  and  the  capital ; but  Murat  drove  them 
back,  after  some  obstinate  fighting.  They  broke  down  bridges, 
and  slowly  retreated  towards  Vienna.  Napoleon’s  auxiliary 
Generals  built  up  the  bridges  again,  and  the  French  steadily  fol- 
lowed. — One  of  the  places  where  Napoleon  rested  was  the  noble 
Abbey  of  Molk,  — the  finest  edifice  of  its  order  in  Europe.  On 
the  9th  of  November,  as  he  sat  under  the  archways  of  this  mag- 
nificent ecclesiastical  palace,  on  the  rock  round  which  the  Danube 
wound,  and  overlooking  the  vast  stretch  of  woodland  which  ex- 
pands towards  Vienna,  a procession  came  through  the  woodland, 
and  up  the  steep,  and  into  the  presence  of  the  conqueror.  The 
magistracy  of  Vienna  had  come,  to  implore  him  to  spare  their 
city.  Perhaps  they  had  heard  below  that  the  Abbey  was  fur- 
nishing between  fifty  and  sixty  thousand  pints  of  wine  per  day 
to  the  French  soldiery  ; and,  though  the  cellars  of  Molk  might 
(as  was  the  fact)  continue  this  for  four  days  without  exhausting 
half  their  stock,  it  was  a melancholy  prospect  for  Vienna,  where 
the  conqueror  might  choose  to  plant  his  army  for  the  winter.  The 
deputation  assured  him  that  the  inhabitants  of  Vienna  were  inno- 
cent of  the  war.  It  was  none  of  their  doing.  His  reply  was,  that 
they  must  keep  themselves  innocent  by  shutting  their  gates  to  the 

VOL.  i.  9 


130 


PITT'S  RECEPTION  OF  THE  NEWS.  [Book  1 


forces  of  both  Russians  and  Austrians,  and  admitting  none  but 
French.  The  Emperor  Francis,  meantime,  was  flying  from  his 
capital.  Two  days  before,  he  had  set  out,  with  his  Court,  for 
Rrunn,  in  Moravia.  His  Generals  had  fallen  back  into  Hungary. 
The  inhabitants  saw  that  there  would  be  no  fighting  in  the  city. 
They  disliked  all  they  heard  about  the  Russians  from  the  peas- 
antry, and  had  throughout  been  indisposed  to  the  war.  They 
The  French  therefore  gave  the  French  a sort  of  welcome.  They  at 
at  Vienna.  least  found  no  fault  with  them.  They  appointed  a Na- 
tional Guard  to  watch  over  the  peace  of  the  city  in  conjunction 
with  the  police  ; and  to  the  people  generally  it  appeared  to  be 
really  of  little  consequence  whether  it  was  Francis  or  Napoleon 
who  was  living  at  the  palace  at  Schonbrunn,  in  this  month  of 
November,  1805.  What  would  Pitt  have  said  to  such  a spec- 
tacle, if  he  had  seen  it  from  afar  ? 

On  the  26th  of  September,1  he  confided  all  the  particulars  of 
his  foreign  plans  to  an  old  friend,  glowing  with  the  persuasion 
that  they  could  not  fail.  That  old  friend  afterwards  lamented 
the  one  only  omission  that  he  could  detect ; — that  a similar  con- 
fidence had  not  been  placed  in  the  British  Minister  at  Vienna, 
Sir  A.  Paget,  who  might  have  reported  of  the  military  plans  of 
Austria  in  time  to  have  had  them  amended.  But  the  Austrians 
were  left  to  prosecute  the  war  in  their  own  way,  and  to  bring  fa- 
tal disasters  upon  the  Avhole  alliance.  On  the  30th  of  October,  Mr. 
Pitt  was  at  a dinner  party,  where  the  talk  was  of  rumors  that 
Mack  and  his  army  had  surrendered  at  Ulm.  The  rapidity  — 
even  now  mysterious  — with  which  the  news  had  spread,  justified 
the  Minister’s  rejection  of  it.  He  dismissed  it  as  a lie  ; but  one 
who  sat  next  him  was  convinced  that  his  haste  and  positiveness 
proceeded  more  from  dread  of  the  news  being  true,  than  from 
security  that  it  was  not.  On  Saturday,  the  2d  of  November, 
the  Minister  had  a dinner  party  at  his  own  house,  and  the  same 
friend  sat  next  him,  and  recurred  to  the  subject  of  the  unpleas- 
ant rumor.  “ Don’t  believe  a word  of  it,”  said  Pitt,  almost  peev- 
ishly ; “ it  is  all  a fiction.”  The  next  day,  Sunday,  Pitt  fell  in 
with  a Dutch  newspaper,  with  something  about  Ulm  in  large 
letters  at  the  head  of  a column.  Neither  he  nor  Lord  Mulgrave 
could  read  Dutch ; and  the  public  offices  were  empty  of  all  the 
clerks  who  could  read  Dutch.  The  friend  who  had  sat  at  Mr. 
Pitt’s  elbow  yesterday  — Lord  Malmesbury  — had  been  a long 
time  at  the  Hague ; perhaps  he  understood  the  language  : so  the 
two  ministers  went  to  him  at  his  house  in  Spring  Gardens,  at  one 
o’clock.  He  could  translate  it  sufficiently  well  to  inform  the 
Minister  of  the  terms  of  the  capitulation  of  Uim.  Pitt  struggled 
with  his  pride  — struggled  hard  under  the  eye  of  the  old  diplo- 

1 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  347. 


Chap.  VI.] 


NELSON  AND  THE  NAVY. 


131 


matist,  to  conceal  his  feelings.  But  his  countenance  and  manner 
“were  not  his  own.”  This  was  another  blow  to  his  breaking 
heart.  As  it  happened,  this  was  Lord  Malmesbury’s  latest  im- 
pression of  him  ; for  they  never  met  again. 

In  four  days  more,  his  spirits  were  revived,  while  his  heart 
was  deeply  touched,  by  news  from  another  quarter. 

It  has  been  mentioned  that  Nelson  put  to  sea — his  destina- 
tion being  the  Mediterranean  — two  days  before  the  Naval 
formal  declaration  of  war  with  France.  He  had  a wea-  events- 
risome  life  of  it,  instead  of  the  active  one  he  had  expected ; his 
object  being  to  catch  the  French  fleet  as  it  came  out  Nelsonin 
of  Toulon.  For  fourteen  months  his  watch  was  inces-  theMediter- 
sant.  From  May,  1803,  to  August,  1805,  he  never  left  ranean‘ 
his  ship  but  three  times ; 1 and  those  three  times  were  on  the 
King’s  service  ; his  absence  on  no  occasion  exceeding  an  hour. 
He  was  somewhat  mortified  at  receiving  a vote  of  thanks  from 
the  city  of  London  for  his  skill  and  perseverance  in  blockading 
Toulon.  He  wrote  back  that  that  port  had  never  been  block- 
aded : “ quite  the  reverse.”  His  object  had  been  to  give  the 
enemy  every  opportunity  to  come  out,  — only  so  as  that  he  might 
catch  them.  These  last  two  years  of  Nelson’s  life  were  the  most 
trying.  He  had  to  endure  the  most  wearing  suspense,  and  as 
much  of  doubt  as  his  decided  mind  could  admit,  with  no  success 
to  keep  up  his  spirits  under  the  toils  and  hardships  of  his  service. 
The  very  climate  and  character  of  the  Mediterranean  seemed,  as 
he  said,  quite  altered ; and  his  ships  were  worn  by  a long  suc- 
cession of  gales.  His  health  was  breaking  more  and  more  rap- 
idly, and  he  was  unwilling  to  die  before  destroying  the  naval 
force  of  France.  In  the  midst  of  his  trials,  the  war  with  Spain 
broke  out ; and  other  officers  were  appointed  to  the  lucrative  ser- 
vice of  catching  treasure-ships  and  merchantmen.  This  was  a se- 
vere pang  to  him,  — honoring  and  loving  as  he  did  the  officers  who 
had  been  his  brave  and  patient  comrades  for  so  long  in  the  barren 
Mediterranean.  On  the  18th  of  January,  the  French  fleet  came 
out  of  Toulon,  to  join  the  Spanish  ships.  Nelson  was  in  a Sar- 
dinian port  when  two  frigates  brought  him  the  news.  Bad 
weather  came  on,  and  concealed  the  fleets  from  each  other  ; and 
Nelson  lost  the  object  of  his  long  and  weary  watch.  He  found 
that  the  French  were  not  anywhere  about  Sardinia,  Sicily,  or 
Naples ; and  he  ran  down  to  Egypt  to  find  them.  They  were 
not  there  ; nor  had  been.  He  beat  about  the  stormy  Mediterra- 
nean the  whole  winter  — sometimes  searching  for  the  enemy  — 
sometimes  keeping  watch  on  Toulon.  On  the  8th  of  March  they 
escaped  him,  passing  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar,  to  go  no  one  knew 
where.  Nelson  was  cruelly  delayed,  too,  by  westerly  winds,  while 

1 Southey’s  Nelson,  ii.  p.  208. 


132 


NAVAL  ROVINGS. 


[Book  L 


northeast  winds  were  sweeping  over  the  Atlantic.  It  was  actu- 
ally the  5th  of  May  before  the  British  could  pass  the  Straits. 
By  that  time,  the  French  and  Spaniards,  having  joined,  were  far 
in  the  West  on  their  way  to  the  West  Indies.  Thither  Nelson 
indies.  followed  them ; and  there  again  he  missed  them,  — 

misled  (without  any  fault)  by  a false  report  and  a series  of  acci- 
dents. They  fled,  however,  before  the  terror  of  his  name  ; and 
our  colonies  there  were  saved.  So  the  West  India  merchants 
told  him  in  an  address  of  thanks  on  his  return.  But  his  spirit 
was  chafing  at  the  incessant  escapes  of  the  enemy.  “ Saw  three 
planks,”  1 his  diary  says,  under  the  date  of  June  21st,  midnight. 
“Saw  three  planks,  which  I think  came  from  the  French  fleet. 
Very  miserable,  which  is  very  foolish.” 

At  the  end  of  July,  he  was  holding  counsel  with  his  friend 
Collingwood,  off  Cadiz  ; and  they  agreed  that  the  enemy  must  be 
gone  to  Ireland.  Nelson  went  northward  accordingly ; then  back 
Roving  the  to  Cadiz,  and  all  over  the  Bay  of  Biscay.  Not  a ship 
seas-  was  to  be  seen.  Then,  before  the  middle  of  August, 

he  was  off  the  northwest  coast  of  Ireland ; but  no  strangers  had 
been  there.  Depressed  and  discouraged,  he  still  kept  his  judg- 
ment awake  and  bright.  Perhaps  the  enemy  might  come  down 
upon  Brest,  and  the  Channel  fleet  require  reinforcement.  He  put 
in  to  see.  Admiral  Cornwallis,  off  Ushant,  had  seen  and  heard 
nothing ; and  he  sent  Nelson,  with  his  own  vessel  and  another, 
to  Portsmouth.  — At  Portsmouth  he  learned  that,  a month  before, 
the  French  and  Spanish  fleet  had  been  met  in  the  Atlantic  by 
Sir  Robert  Calder’s  squadron,  which  had  taken  two  large  ships. 
Nelson  wished,  as  the  nation  did,  that  he  had  been  there,  to  have 
done  more,  though  the  feat  would  have  been  thought  a consider- 
able one,  if  a greater  than  Sir  Robert  Calder  had  not  accustomed 
.. . the  world  to  prodigious  victories.  He  now  went  down 

to  his  house  at  Merton  to  rest. 

In  a few  days,  a friend  from  the  fleet  called  on  him  at  five  in 
the  morning,  and,  finding  him  ready  dressed,2  gave  him  the  news 
that  the  enemy  had  got  their  reinforcements  out  from  Ferrol, 
without  hindrance,  and  had  entered  Cadiz  in  safety.  This  Avas 
enough  to  stir  a cooler  spirit  than  Nelson’s.  He  offered  his  ser- 
vices to  the  new  Admiralty  Minister,  Lord  Barham,  who  was 
thankful,  of  course,  to  accept  them.  Every  exertion  was  made  to 
aid  him,  and  meet  his  wishes  ; and  on  the  14th  of  September,  he 
arrived  at  Portsmouth.  Before  he  left  London,  he  went  to  his 
upholsterer,  who  held  in  charge  his  coffin,  a present  from  a 
brother  captain,  and  a favorite  article  of  furniture  in  his  cabin. 
This  strange  present  had  a meaning.  It  was  constructed  out  of 
the  mainmast  of  a French  vessel,  destroyed  at  the  Battle  of  the 

i Lifo,  ii.  p.  224.  2 Ibid.  p.  231. 


Chap.  VI  ] 


OFF  CADIZ. 


133 


Nile.  Nelson  now,  in  the  middle  of  September,  1805,  gave  di- 
rections for  the  history  of  the  coffin  to  be  engraved  upon  the  lid,1 
as  he  should  probably  soon  want  it.  This  was  not  from  the  se  ise 
of  danger  which  every  officer  must  feel  who  is  soon  going  into 
action ; but  from  the  knowledge  that  he  was  a mark  for  the  ene- 
my, and  that  the  hostile  force  would  always  “ make  a dead  set,” 
at  his  ship,  and  their  marksmen  aim  at  his  heart.  When  he  em- 
barked at  Portsmouth,  the  popular  enthusiasm  set  at  defiance  all 
bounds  and  all  order ; and  it  was  seen  to  be  necessary  to  let  the 
people  crowd  the  parapets  as  they  would,  and  take  care  of  them- 
selves. It  was  cheering  to  Nelson  to  perceive  that  the  popular 
faith  in  him  was  as  strong  as  ever,  though  he  and  the  nation  had 
so  long  been  balked  of  victory. 

On  the  day  when  Mr.  Pitt  confided  his  plans,  in  a sanguine 
spirit,  to  Lord  Malmesbury  — the  26th  of  September  — Nelson 
was  drawing  near  Cadiz ; and  he  arrived  there  on  his 

© Off  C.acMr 

birthday,  the  29th,  when  he  completed  his  47th  year. 

He  had  taken  precautions,  and  successfully,  to  prevent  its  being 
known  what  his  force  was.  When  the  French  Admiral,  Ville- 
neuve,  heard  that  he  had  joined  the  fleet,  he  hesitated  about 
leaving  the  bar  ; but  an  American  traveller  assured  him  that  the 
report  must  be  false,  as  he  had  seen  Nelson  in  London  only  a 
few  days  before.  Nelson  kept  his  chief  force  out  of  sight,  and 
stationed  himself  so  far  N.  W.  of  Cadiz  as  not  to  be  caught  by  a 
westerly  wind,  and  driven  into  the  Mediterranean ; and  there  he 
blockaded  the  port.  His  object  being  to  starve  out  the  ships,  he 
captured  such  small  Danish  vessels  as  were  employed  in  convey- 
ing provisions  to  little  towns  along  the  coast ; and  he  held  him- 
self ready  to  account  afterwards  for  this  act  of  aggression  upon 
Denmark. 

Every  day  now  gave  more  promise  that  the  enemy  would  come 
out ; and  the  population  of  the  fleet  were  in  high  spirits,  — even 
amusing  themselves  with  theatrical  entertainments  in  the  even- 
ings. Nelson  had  his  cares,  however,  — much  improved  as  were 
his  prospects.  His  want  of  frigates  kept  him  in  the  dark,  as  it 
had  done  so  disastrously  before.  He  had  not  scouts  enough  to 
satisfy  him  that  he  knew  what  the  enemy  were  about.  The 
Spanish  squadron  from  Carthagena  might  come  up  in  one  direc- 
tion; and  the  French  one  from  Brest  in  another;  and  the  odds 
might  then  be  too  fearful  even  for  his  spirit  and  notion  of  British 
superiority.  On  the  9th  of  October,  he  sent  to  his  friend  Col- 
lingwood  his  sketch  of  a plan  of  attack,  as  far  as  he  could  form 
it  with  his  present  knowledge.  On  the  19th,  the  long-wished-for 
message  reached  him  that  the  enemy  were  coming  out  of  port. 
By  two  o’clock,  they  were  at  sea ; and  the  field  wras  open  at  last. 

1 Life,  ii.  p.  234. 


134 


TRAFALGAR  — NELSON’S  DEATH.  [Book  I, 


It  was  the  21st  before  the  fleets  faced  each  other.  The  ene- 
Battie  of  my  had  33  sail  of  the  line  and  7 frigates  ; the  British 

Trafalgar  had  27  of  the  one  and  4 of  the  other.  After  the 

arrangements  for  battle  were  all  made,  Nelson  was  calm  and 
cheerful,  but  not  in  the  state  of  exhiiaration  which  he  had  mani- 
fested on  some  former  occasions.  I4e  had  now  opposed  to  him 
as  near  a match,  as  to  both  skill  and  bravery,  as  the  enemy  could 
supply.  Admiral  Villeneuve  disposed  his  force  so  as  to  have  the 
port  of  Cadiz  to  retreat  to,  and  to  compel  the  British  to  place 
themselves  where  there  might  be  danger  from  the  shoals  of  Traf- 
algar and  St.  Pedro,  — points  of  coast  in  their  lee.  Nelson  and 
Collingwood  led  on  the  two  lines  in  which  the  British  ships  were 
ranged ; and  the  first  shot  was  fired  just  before  noon.  It  was  at 
a quarter  past  one,  in  the  heat  of  the  action,  that  Nelson  received 
his  death-wound.  A ball  struck  the  epaulette  on  his  left  shoulder, 
and  broke  his  spine.  In  another  hour  and  ten  minutes,  his  Cap- 
tain, Hardy,  brought  him  news  that  ten  of  the  enemy’s  ships  had 
struck.  In  fifty  minutes  more,  Hardy  came  to  him  again,  with 
news  of  complete  victory.  At  least,  fourteen  or  fifteen  of  the 
enemy’s  ships  had  struck,  he  said ; and  Nelson  replied,  that  he 
had  bargained  for  twenty.  And  twenty  there  were.  The  last 
shots  were  heard  a few  minutes  before  Nelson  drew  his  final 
Death  of  breath,  at  half-past  four.  By  accidents  of  weather, 

Nelson.  several  of  the  prizes  were  lost ; and  one  escaped  into 

Cadiz  ; but  the  naval  force  of  the  enemy  was  effectually  broken. 
The  Spanish  Admiral,  Alva,  died  of  his  wounds.  Villeneuve 
was  carried  to  England,  whence  he  was  permitted  to  return  to 
France.  On  his  way  to  Paris,  he  was  either  murdered  or  com- 
mitted suicide. 

It  was  while  Mr.  Pitt  was  in  the  midst  of  the  struggle  of 
feeling,  which  has  been  described  as  succeeding  the  news  of  the 
capitulation  of  Ulm — only  on  the  Thursday  after  that  Sunday 
when  he  carried  the  Dutch  newspaper  to  his  friend  in  Spring 
Gardens  — that  the  tidings  of  the  Battle  of  Trafalgar  reached 
him.  He  was  called  up  in  the  night  to  receive  them,  in  the  form 
of  a packet  of  despatches  from  Admiral  Collingwood.1  He  said 
afterwards  that,  for  once  in  his  life,  he  could  not  sleep  after  the 
interruption.  Many  times,  in  his  career  as  minister,  he  had  been 
called  up  in  the  night,  to  receive  news,  good  or  bad  ; and  he 
had  always  before  been  able  to  lay  down  his  head  and  sleep  im- 
mediately ; but  on  this  occasion,  he  was  so  restless  that  he  rose 
at  three  o’clock.  The  naval  power  of  F ranee  and  Spain  was 
destroyed.  We  had  nothing  more  to  fear  at  sea:  that  part  of 
our  warfare  might  be  considered  closed ; but  Nelson  was  gone  ; 
and  no  one,  from  Pitt  down  to  the  humblest  man  born  on  British 

* Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  349  (note  , 


Chap.  VI.] 


CHARACTER  OF  NELSON. 


135 


ground,  knew  whether  most  to  rejoice  or  to  mourn.  Their  peculiar 
hero  was  lost ; the  greatest  naval  commander  that  the  world  had 
produced ; and  nothing  could  be  a compensation  for  his  loss. 
Peculiar  indeed  Nelson  was  : peculiarly  British,  among  His  charac- 
other  things.  While  full  fraught  with  the  genius  which  ter- 
belongs  to  no  country,  he  had  the  qualities,  almost  in  excess,  which 
Britons  are  apt  to  call  British.  His  whole  frame  of  body  and  mind 
seems  to  have  overflowed  with  an  electric  sensibility,  by  which  his 
own  life  was  made  one  series  of  emotions,  and  his  own  being  seemed 
to  communicate  itself  to  all  others.  Every  man,  woman,  and 
child,  who  came  near  him  was  heroic ; and  in  himself  were  min- 
gled emotions  which  rarely  meet  in  the  same  soul.  Few  would 
have  the  courage  to  entertain  at  once,  as  he  did,  guilt  and  piety, 
remorse  and  confidence,  paroxysms  of  weakness  and  inspirations 
of  strength.  Except  as  his  native  vigor  wrought  as  discipline, 
he  was  undisciplined.  He  was  as  vehement  in  his  modes  of  ex- 
pression as  in  his  feelings ; and  he  appears  to  have  made  no  effort 
whatever  to  preserve  his  domestic  virtue,  and  withstand  the  guil- 
ty passion  which  poisoned  his  life,  and  that  of  his  innocent  wife, 
and  which  mingles  pity  and  disgust  with  the  admiration  and  grat- 
itude of  an  idolizing  nation.  His  piety  was  not  only  warm,  but 
most  presumptuous  in  the  midst  of  his  helpless  guilt.  He  prayed 
glowingly  and  confidently  ; but  then,  it  was  not  like  the  prayer 
of  any  one  else.  It  was  petition  as  to  a Superior  Power  enlisted 
against  the  French,  which,  on  such  an  occasion,  would  not  deal 
with  him  about  Lady  Hamilton.  This  view,  unconsciously  held, 
was  no  doubt  natural ; for  it  was  that  of  the  people  generally. 
No  one  wanted  to  deal  with  him,  as  others  are  dealt  with  by  soci- 
ety, for  his  domestic  guilt,  while  he  was  to  the  popular  eye  like 
an  angel  with  a flaming  sword,  God-sent  to  deliver  the  country. 
To  the  people,  he  was  now  the  champion  and  the  sailor  ; and  he 
was  adored  as  he,  in  that  view,  deserved  to  be.  The  disclosures 
of  after-years,  and  the  ethical  judgment  which,  sooner  or  later 
follows  upon  a passionate  idolatry,  have  made  the  name  and  image 
of  Nelson  now  very  different  from  what  they  were  on  the  day  of 
his  funeral ; but  still  he  is  truly  regarded  as  the  greatest  of  naval 
captains ; as  worthy  of  all  honor  for  bravery,  humanity,  profes- 
sional disinterestedness,  and  devoted  zeal  ; and  as  commanding 
even  a deeper  admiration  by  the  delicacy  of  his  sensibilities  on 
behalf  of  his  country  and  his  comrades.  His  passions  and  weak- 
nesses were  so  clearly  the  misery  of  his  life,  that  to  point  them 
out  as  being  so  is,  perhaps,  a sufficient  reprobation.  In  the  ec- 
stasy of  their  gratitude,  the  nation  mourned  that  they  could  do 
nothing  but  heap  honors  on  the  memory  of  their  hero,  and  on  all 
whom  he  had  left  to  whom  they  could  do  honor  without  shaming 
him  and  themselves.  His  brother  was  made  an  earl,  with  an  in- 


136 


MOURNING  FOR  NELSON. 


[Book  L 


come  of  6000/.  a year ; his  sisters  were  presented  with  10,000/. 
each  ; and  100,000/.  were  voted  for  the  purchase  of  an  estate. 
All  this  would  not  have  satisfied  him  ; 1 for,  in  the  last  paper  he 
wrote,  on  the  day  of  his  death,  the  paper  which  made  the  nation 
his  executor,  he  thrust  his  relations  into  a sort  of  postscript.  It 
was  Emma  Hamilton  whom  he  bequeathed  to  the  nation’s  care, 
with  a curious  mingling  of  claims  of  her  own  public  services,  and 
of  her  being  his  Emma.  The  one  claim  neutralized  the  other. 
If  it  was  the  principle  and  method  of  society  in  England  to  reward 
public  service,  wherever  found,  without  a glance  at  private  moral 
deserts,  Lady  Hamilton  might  and  would  have  been  pensioned, 
and  raised  far  above  the  destitution  in  which  she  died  abroad. 
But  such  is  not  — and  was  even  less  at  that  time  — the  view  of 
English  society;  and  Lady  Hamilton  could  expect  nothing  from 
the  nation  while  she  was  commended  to  them  as  Nelson’s  legacy, 
known,  as  she  was,  to  have  estranged  him  from  a wife  to  whose 
goodness  he  bore  the  most  emphatic  testimony.  It  is  a relief  to 
His  funeral  ^ urn  from  the  spectacle  of  Nelson  writing  that  paper 

in  his  cabin  to  that  of  his  funeral  in  St.  Paul’s,  when 
the  sailors  seized  his  flag,  as  it  was  about  to  be  lowered  into  his 
grave,  and  rent  it  in  pieces,  that  each  might  wear  a fragment 
next  his  heart.  The  leaden  coffin,  in  which  he  was  brought  home, 
was  cut  up  and  spread  abroad  in  like  manner.  Statues  and 
other  monuments  were  voted  in  profusion  ; and  for  many  years 
afterwards,  children  by  the  firesides  of  England  looked  up  when 
their  ear  was  struck  by  the  tone  in  which  Nelson’s  name  was 
spoken,  and  wondered  at  the  tears  which  they  saw  in  their  par- 
ents’ eyes.  Never  was  man  more  mourned  by  a nation. 

Two  days  after  the  arrival  of  the  news  from  Trafalgar,  Mr.  Pitt 
was  present  at  the  Lord  Mayor’s  dinner,  in  high  spirits.  His 
entry  into  the  City  had  been  a sort  of  triumph ; and  the  new  vic- 
tory gained  by  Britons  effaced,  in  the  popular  mind,  the  im- 
Difficuities  pression  of  defeat  sustained  by  Austrians.  While  Mr. 
of  the  Min-  Pitt  was  balancing  this  good  and  bad  public  news,  the 
same  process  was  going  on  in  his  secret  mind,  with  re- 
gard to  some  that  was  more  private.  The  bad  fortune  was  that 
lie  could  make  no  impression  on  the  Grenvilles.  He  was  very 
helpless  in  his  weak  cabinet ; and  the  Addington  alliance,  which 
had  brought  nothing  but  mortification,  was  over.  The  state  of 
the  country,  as  he  was  always  telling  the  King,  required  the 
union  of  the  ablest  men  that  could  be  found ; and  party  consider- 
ations ought  to  be  placed  in  abeyance.  The  King  always  agreed, 
and  told  him  to  apply  to  the  Grenvilles ; but  when  reminded  that 
the  Grenvilles  would  not  come  in  without  Mr.  Fox,  he  stiffened 
himself  at  the  name,  and  could  not  be  further  reasoned  with. 

1 Life,  ii.  p.  248. 


Chap.  VI.] 


MINISTERIAL  DIFFICULTIES. 


137 


Mr.  Pitt  hoped  and  believed  that  his  perseverance  in  advocating 
the  admission  of  Mr.  Fox  was  making  some  impression,  and  that 
the  difficulty  would  give  way  in  time;  but  there  was  now  no 
time  to  lose.  Once  more,  he  applied  this  autumn  to  the  Gren- 
villes ; and  once  more  he  received  the  old  reply.  With  a heavy 
heart,  he  turned  to  contemplate  his  own  party  — especially  his 
own  personal  adherents.  The  best  plan  he  could  devise  was  to 
put  his  young  friend  Canning  and  Charles  Yorke  into  the  Cabi- 
net, with  the  Board  of  Control ; 1 and  this  he  intended  to  have 
done  at  the  beginning  of  the  Session.  If  success  should  happen 
on  the  Continent,  he  could  stand  his  ground  against  any  opposi- 
tion, and  triumphantly  carry  out  his  scheme  of  policy.  If  not 
— but  this  was  an  alternative  of  which  he  never  spoke,  and  from 
which  he  probably  turned  away  his  thoughts  in  his  deepest  soli- 
tude. 

The  good  news  with  which  he  cheered  his  Cabinet  and  himself 
was,  that  Prussia  had  declared  for  the  Coalition.  In  Accession  of 
his  sanguine  moods,  he  overlooked  — what  he  must  Prussia  to 
have  known  — that  it  mattered  little  what  Prussia  the  League' 
professed  and  promised,  as  she  was  obviously  trimming  between 
Napoleon  and  Alexander,  and  not  to  be  depended  upon  by  either. 
Lord  Harrowby  was  immediately  sent  off  to  Berlin,2  from  whence 
his  very  earliest  letters  were  full  of  discouragement ; for,  by 
that  time,  Napoleon  was  driving  the  Austrians  before  him  like  a 
flock  of  sheep.  — It  was  time  now  to  be  fixing  the  date  of  the 
meeting  of  parliament ; and  the  poverty  of  the  exchequer  was 
extreme.  The  government,  in  its  pressure  for  money,  was  issuing 
bills  at  three  months’  date ; and  they  must  be  provided  for. 
Yet  the  Minister  lingered  about  fixing  the  date.  He  longed  for 
some  good  news  from  the  continent  which  should  enable  him  to 
lift  up  his  head  in  parliament  as  in  his  proudest  days.  His  com- 
rades were  of  his  mind  about  delaying  to  the  utmost  the  opening 
of  the  session  ; for  his  health  not  only  made  them  uneasy,  but 
much  impeded  the  business  of  the  government.  Neither  they 
nor  he  seem  to  have  anticipated  that  he  would  never  appear  in 
parliament  more.  — The  meeting  of  parliament  was  finally  fixed 
for  the  21st  of  January. 

The  forces  with  which  England  was  to  strengthen  the  allies 
were  preparing.  An  armament  for  the  Weser  was  on  its  way  ; 
and  an  expedition  of  45,000  men,  under  the  Duke  of  Y^ork,  was 
soon  to  set  forth.  The  staff  of  the  Commander-in-Chief  was  to 
include  the  Dukes  of  Cumberland  and  Cambridge.  Austria  was 
now  suffering  from  adversity,  and  her  armies  commanded  by  her 
Archdukes  ; and  most  people  in  England,  regarding  this  as  an 
omen,  dreaded  a similar  result  from  the  young  Princes  of  the 

1 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  351.  2 Ibid.  p.  350. 


138 


NAPOLEON  IN  AUSTRIA. 


[Book  L 


Blood  being  sent  out  as  Commanders  and  Aides  before  they  had 
been  learners.  Mr.  Pitt’s  brother,  Lord  Chatham,  was  of  the 
coterie ; and  from  his  want  of  energy,  he  boded  no  good  to  the 
conjunction.  But  news  was  on  the  way  which  presently  stopped 
men’s  tongues  about  all  lesser  misfortunes. 

When  Napoleon  received  the  news  of  the  Battle  of  Trafal- 
gar, he  said,  in  a tone  of  vexation,  “ I cannot  be  everywhere  at 
once.”  To  the  end  of  his  life,  he  seemed  to  conclude  that  he 
could  have  conquered  Nelson,  if  he  had  been  on  the  spot.  He 
was  carrying  all  before  him  where  he  was. 

We  have  said  that  the  Emperor  and  Court  of  Austria  had 
gone  northwards  into  Moravia,  when  Napoleon  entered  Vienna. 
Napoleon  was  aware  that  the  Austrian  forces  were  hourly  re- 
cruited by  fine  young  soldiers  from  the  Tyrol,  Croatia,  and  above 
all,  Hungary.  He  had  engaged  to  treat  with  a Prussian  envoy, 
who  was  coming  to  express  the  good-will  of  Prussia  to  him  — 
as  the  good-will  of  Prussia  had  just  been  offered  to  Mr.  Pitt  in 
London.  The  Prussian  envoy  made  his  journey  extremely  slow, 
in  order  to  see  how  affairs  were  tending.  By  the  2 2d  of  No- 
vember, Napoleon  would  wait  no  longer.  He  pushed  across  the 
Danube,  and  followed  the  Court  in  the  direction  of  Brunn.  By 
the  time  he  had  reached  Brunn,  the  fhnperors  of  Russia  and 
Austria  had  retreated  to  Olmiitz,  where  a new  division  of  troops 
from  Russia  joined  them,  raising  their  force  to  80,000  men. 
Here  the  Prussian  envoy  presented  himself,  and  was  received 
with  the  insulting  recommendation  to  go  to  Vienna,1  and  wait  to 
see  which  way  fortune  would  decide  the  impending  battle.  We 
know  by  a letter  to  Talleyrand,  that  Napoleon  was  at  this  time 
aware  of  the  Prussian  negotiations  in  London.  He  did  not  for- 
get to  show  his  sense  of  such  conduct  when  an  opportunity  oc- 
curred for  humbling  Prussia. 

He  had  little  dread  of  the  Austrian  troops,  regarding  them  as 
made  up  chiefly  of  raw  recruits  and  soldiers  discouraged  by  the 
events  of  the  campaign  thus  far  ; but  he  feared  the  Russians. 
He  sent  a man  into  the  Russian  camp  who  knew  how  to  use  his 
eyes,  while  appearing  to  see  nothing.  Savary  went  to  see  Alex- 
ander, bearing  one  of  Napoleon’s  now  commonplace  epistles,  re- 
monstrating against  war,  and  inviting  to  peace  and  friendship. 
Savary  brought  some  information  about  the  Russian  forces  to 
his  master ; and  then  made  a second  visit,  from  which  he  brought 
more.  Alexander  refused  to  desert  Austria ; but,  on  his  part, 
offered  terms  which  Napoleon  rejected  with  scorn. 

If  the  Emperors  could  have  waited  for  even  a short  time,  the 
Battle  of  fortune  of  the  campaign  might  have  been  different. 
Austeriitz.  13ut  the  Russians  were  hungry.  There  were  pro  vis- 

i Alison’s  History  of  Europe,  v.  p.  467. 


Chap.  VI.] 


AUSTERLITZ.  — ARMISTICE. 


139 


ions  in  Vienna  in  abundance  ; but  the  French  had  been  enjoying 
them  ; and  Brunn  and  the  mountains  behind  afforded  an  intoler- 
ably bare  subsistence  to  the  troops  of  the  allies.  They  pushed 
on  to  Brunn,  and  Napoleon  retreated  to  Austerlitz.  It  was  not 
the  first  time  he  had  been  there.  While  Savary  was  cajoling 
the  young  Czar,  Napoleon  had  made  use  of  his  time  in  survey- 
ing the  field  of  Austerlitz,  which  he  found  to  be  admirable  for 
his  purposes.  — Marshal  Kutusoff  was  the  responsible  Com- 
mander on  the  side  of  the  allies.  On  the  1st  of  December,  he 
brought  on  and  arranged  his  forces  in  a style  which  delighted 
even  his  great  antagonist.  But  Napoleon  saw  faults.  He  saw 
that  the  Austrian  forces  were  not  well  disciplined,  and  that,  in 
order  to  turn  the  right  flank  of  the  French,  Kutusoff  was  ex- 
tending his  line  too  much.  Dropping  his  glass  with  an  air  of 
satisfaction,  Napoleon  observed,1  “ By  to-morrow  evening  that 
army  is  mine.”  — All  night  he  passed,  through  freezing  winds 
and  storms,  from  bivouac  to  bivouac,  bewitching  his  soldiers  with 
the  singular  magnetism  which  he  could  dispense  on  such  occa- 
sions. He  slept  for  one  half-hour,  and  no  more,  by  a bivouac 
fire,  and  was  on  horseback  before  daylight.  It  was  the  first 
anniversary  of  his  Coronation  ; and  the  day  turned  out  as  he 
intended  it  should.  — By  an  hour  or  two  after  noon,  thousands 
of  Russians  lay  under  the  broken  ice  in  the  lakes  in  the  rear  of 
the  allies ; and  thousands  more  lay  dead  in  lines  on  the  field  of 
Austerlitz.  Some  had  been  pushed  back,  and  the  thin  ice  broke 
under  the  pressure  of  their  retreat.  Those  who  would  not  re- 
treat were  mowed  down  where  they  stood.  The  Russians  fought 
tremendously,  and  endured  desperately ; and  it  was  night  before 
the  last  of  them  left  the  field,  which  they  did  in  fine  order.  The 
day  was  far  from  an  easy  or  secure  one  to  the  French.  There 
were  moments  in  it  when  the  fortunes  of  Napoleon  seemed  on 
the  verge  of  destruction  ; but  the  issue  was  so  clear  that  Francis 
of  Austria  was  presently  by  his  side,  in  a mood  of  submission, 
calling  his  great  adversary,  “ Sir,  my  brother,”  and  giving  up 
pretty  nearly  whatever  Napoleon  chose  to  ask.  Alexander 
would  have  nothing  to  do  with  this.  Fie  kept  aloof ; and  saw 
from  afar  the  Austrians  going  over  to  the  French  interest,  and 
consulting  with  Napoleon  how  to  get  rid  of  him  and  his  troops. 
It  was  indeed  so.  On  the  6th  of  December,  the  armis-  Austrian 
tice  was  signed,  by  which  Francis  agreed  to  turn  off  ariuistice- 
the  Russians  from  his  territories,2  and  admit  no  foreign  troops 
whatever  henceforth  ; to  give  up  Presburg  — thus  posting  the 
French  in  the  rear  of  Vienna,  — and  to  give  up  Carinthia,  Styria, 
Carniola,  and  Venice  — thus  opening  to  the  French  a broad  ex- 
panse of  territory  about  the  Adriatic,  and  a command  of  the 
1 Alison’s  History  of  Europe,  v.  p.  470.  2 Annual  Register,  1805,  p.  178. 


140 


MR.  PITT'S  ILLNESS. 


[Book  I. 


Mediterranean  at  that  end.  This  was  more  than  could  easily 
have  been  obtained  by  many  campaigns  ; but  it  was  not  nearly  all 
that  was  required  when  the  Definitive  Treaty  came  to 
ireaty.  ^e  signed,  on  the  26th  of  December,  at  Presburg.  By 
that  treaty,  Austria  and  its  dependencies  and  allied  neighbors 
were  in  fact  completely  subjected  to  the  pleasure  of  the  con- 
queror ; and  at  the  very  time,  the  Archdukes  were  coming  up 

— one  victorious  over  a division  of  Bavarians,  and  another  with 
a large  army  in  excellent  order.  They  could  now  do  nothing  ; 
and  the  Emperor  of  Russia  could  only  protest,  and  withdraw  his 
troops.  They  were  in  a very  distressed  condition  ; but  he  be- 
gan his  retreat  on  the  6th  of  December,  arid  saved  at  least  his 
honor. 

Mr.  Pitt  was  at  Bath  when  the  news  arrived  of  the  secession 
Mr.  Pitt’s  of  Austria  from  his  great  Coalition.  He  had  been 

illness.  ordered  to  Bath  early  in  the  month  of  December ; 

and,  soon  after  he  went  there,  he  had  a fit  of  the  gout  which  did 
not  relieve  him  as  usual,  but  enfeebled  him  extremely,  and  de- 
stroyed his  power  of  digestion.  The  news  of  Austerlitz  came 
first  through  France,  in  the  boastful  language  of  her  newspapers. 
“ Roll  up  the  map  of  Europe,”  said  the  heart  broken  statesman, 
in  the  first  moment  of  his  anguish.  Presently,  however,  his 
sanguine  spirit  rallied.  Rumors  were  prevalent  of  the  Russians 
having  rallied,  the  day  after  the  battle,  and  driven  Napoleon  out 
of  the  field  ; 1 and  Pitt,  characteristically,  chose  to  believe  these 
rumors  to  the  last  moment,  in  defiance  of  the  despatches  from 
his  own  envoys  abroad.  At  the  end  of  December,  just  at  the 
close  of  the  most  wretched  year  of  Pitt’s  life,  Lord  Castlereagh 
went  to  Bath,  to  tell  him  the  truth.  He  never  rallied  after  it. 

— On  the  10th  of  January,  he  was  brought  towards  home,  “ so 
emaciated  as  not  to  be  known  ; ” but  his  physicians  declared 
that  if  he  was  to  recover,  it  must  be  by  means  of  entire  rest. 
The  government  was  at  a stand-still ; and  nobody  knew  what  to 
do.  The  King  was  now  nearly  blind,  and  in  a state  of  restless 
uneasiness  which  threatened  a return  of  insanity.  Pitt’s  coad- 
jutors, subordinates,  and  friends,  agreed  to  propose  office  to  the 
leaders  of  Opposition,  in  order  to  save  the  country ; 2 and  the 
Opposition  leaders  were  (according  to  his  own  statement)  making 
overtures  to  Lord  Sidmouth  for  the  support  of  the  Addington 
coterie.  It  seemed  to  all  parties  the  darkest  period  they  had 
ever  known.  In  order  to  be  ready,  the  Opposition  prepared  an 
amendment  to  the  Address  which  must  be  moved  on  the  meet- 
ing of  parliament,  little  aware  how  soon  death  was  to  set  aside 
their  plans. 

On  the  11th,  Saturday,  the  minister  reache  1 his  home  on  Put- 
1 Malmesbury  Diaries  iv.  p.  352.  2 Memoil  of  Ward,  ii.  p.  172. 


Chap.  VI.] 


HIS  DEATH. 


141 


ney  Heath.  On  the  Monday,  he  saw  two  of  his  comrades  — 
separately,  and  only  for  pleasant  conversation  ; but  he  was  greatly 
exhausted,  and  told  the  Bishop  of  Lincoln  (who  was  constantly 
with  him)  that  he  felt  he  should  never  recover.  Placing  his  hand 
on  his  stomach,  he  said  he  felt  a fatal  giving  way  there.  Yet  he 
was  out  for  a drive  the  next  day.  On  that  day  he  saw  his  old 
friend,  Lord  Wellesley,  then  just  returned  from  India.  He  w^as 
gay  and  sanguine  as  ever,  Lord  Wellesley  used  to  say  ; even  sure 
that  he  should  recover ; but  the  interview  was  too  much  for  him  : 
he  fainted  away  ; and  none  of  his  colleagues  were  admitted  again. 
On  the  next  day  came  on  the  fatal  irritability  of  stomach  which 
closed  the  struggle.  When  Parliament  met,  the  Amendment 
was  given  up,  or  suspended,  by  Opposition,  because  they  found 
that  the  Minister  against  whom  it  was  aimed  was  passing  beyond 
their  reach.  The  next  day,  Wednesday,  2 2d  of  January,  he 
was  first  spoken  to  as  a dying  man  : he  was  then  too  weak  for  in- 
tercourse, being  unable  to  articulate  more  than  a word  or  two  at 
a time.  That  his  mind  was  awake  is  however  proved  by  an  in- 
teresting vestige  of  those  closing  hours,  preserved  by  his  physi- 
cian. Among  the  inferior  office-holders  of  his  administration 
was  Robert  Ward,  since  better  known  as  a novelist  than  as  a 
politician.  Mr.  Ward  had  given  up  a Welsh  judgeship  for  the 
office  he  held,  under  some  engagement  for  compensation  for  a 
sacrifice  at  the  outset.  During  his  illness,  Pitt  had  more  than 
once  mentioned  him  ; 1 and  now  he  was  understood  to  be  attempting 
to  say  “ Robert  Ward.”  He  signed  for  pen  and  paper,  and  he 
feebly  marked  some  wandering  characters,  of  which  not  a word 
has  been  read  to  this  day,  but  his  well-known  signature.  It  was 
doubtless  some  memorandum  in  the  young  man’s  favor.  The  im- 
pression of  his  latter  days  was  very  dreary  on  the  minds  of  those 
who  knew  the  details  of  his  state.  During  the  first  week  at 
Bath,  his  step  was  firm  and  his  bearing  stately  as  usual.  When 
brought  back  to  Putney,  he  could  only  sit  in  his  easy-chair,  neither 
reading,  nor  speaking,  nor  being  spoken  to,  — purely  on  account  of 
bodily  weakness  ; and  what  a mass  of  painful  thoughts  was  heav- 
ing within ! The  being  first  spoken  to  as  a dying  man,  on  the 
Wednesday  morning,  though  evidently  a surprise,  must  have  been 
welcome  to  one  sunk  so  deeply  in  adversity.  He  died,  Hig  death 
at  the  age  of  47,  early  in  the  morning  of  the  next  day 
— Thursday,  January  23d.  On  that  evening  a gentleman  who 
had  happened  to  be  out  of  the  way  of  the  intelligence  of  the  day,2 
called  at  the  door  to  make  inquiries.  No  one  answered  his  knock  ; 
and  the  door  being  open,  he  went  in.  The  house  was  very  still, 
and,  no  one  appearing,  the  visitor  proceeded  until  he  came  to  the 
room  where  the  cold  corpse  was  lying,  deserted.  The  shock  was 
1 Memoir,  i.  p.  176.  2 Brougham’s  Statesmen,  &c.  Lord  Wellesley. 


142 


CHARACTER  OF  PITT. 


[Book  I. 


dreadful : and  the  inquirer  never  lost  the  impression  of  horror  and 
disgust.  As  he  was  leaving  the  premises,  a solitary  servant  appeared 
from  below.  Everybody  else  was  gone  from  the  side  of  the  dead. 
Such  attachment  as  he  inspired  seems  not  to  have  been  that 
which  makes  sacred  ‘‘the  shell  of  the  flown  bird  : ” it  had  noth- 
ing of  a domestic  character.  He  was  never  married.  Political 
life  was  everything  to  him  — charming  as  he  was  in  society.  He 
staked  his  all  in  life  on  political  success  ; and  he  died  of  defeat. 
Every  one  believed  and  knew  that  his  integrity  about  public 
money  matters  was  indisputable  ; and  no  one  therefore  supposed 
that  he  could  die  rich ; but  it  was  a painful  surprise  to  his  friends 
to  And  how  vast  were  his  debts.  He  owed  nearly  50, 000/., 1 
though  his  income,  while  Warden  of  the  Cinque  Ports,  was  not 
less  than  10,000/.  a year,  and  he  lived  at  the  rate  of  not  more 
than  5000/.  or  6000/.  Some  of  his  affectionate  friends  were 
anxious  to  pay  these  debts  quietly,  out  of  their  own  purses,  to 
avoid  the  setting  up  of  a doubtful  precedent,  as  well  as  for  the 
honor  of  the  departed  ; 2 and  Mr.  Perceval,  for  one,  though  his 
family  was  large  and  his  fortune  moderate,  offered  1000/.  But 
a motion  was  brought  forward  in  the  House,3  on  the  3d  of  Feb- 
ruary, for  the  payment  of  the  debts  to  tradesmen  (amount- 
ing to  40,000/.)  by  the  country ; and  no  opposition  was  made  to 
it.  The  body  lay  in  state  in  the  Painted  Chamber  of  the  blouse 
of  Parliament,  and  was  buried  in  Westminster  Abbey,  with  every 
mark  of  honor.  There  was  probably  no  part  of  his  life  when  he 
was  so  unpopular  as  in  the  closing  period ; for  his  peculiar  pol- 
icy was  in  course  of  wretched  failure.  His  own  friends  found 
it  difficult  to  press  a Resolution  that  he  was  a great  Statesman, 
in  the  face  of  such  an  issue  as  appeared  now  to  be  awaiting  his 
statesmanship.  From  such  a judgment  as  can  be  formed  from 
the  earlier  portion  of  his  administrative  career,  we  may  suppose 
that  he  would  have  been  a great  Peace  Minister.  Unhappily, 
his  lot  fell  in  .a  time  of  inevitable  war ; and  he  proved  that  a 
war  administration  was  no  field  for  him.  Those  who  give  him 
up  as  a War  Minister,  admire  him  as  a financier.  It  is  clear 
that  the  economic  progress  of  the  nation  was  steady  and  remark- 
able during  the  early  and  peaceful  portion  of  his  government ; 
and  the  expenditure  was  moderate,  and  not  on  the  increase,  till 
the  war  broke  out.  His  improved  Sinking  Fund  would  have  en- 
titled him  to  the  national  gratitude,  if  he  could  have  provided  se- 
curity that  the  million  per  annum  laid  by  should  be  really  a sur- 
plus ; but  the  plan  since  resorted  to  of  borrowing  money  for  that 
fund  — itself  destined  to  pay  off  debt  — has  covered  the  scheme 
with  ridicule,  if  not  reprobation,  in  which  Mr.  Pitt’s  memory 

1 Life  of  Wilberforce,  iii.  p.  246.  2 Ibid.  p.  249. 

8 Hansard,  vi.  p.  128. 


Chap.  VI.]  TESTIMONY  OF  WILBERFORCE. 


143 


ought  to  have  no  share.  — As  an  orator,  we  must  conclude  from 
the  united  testimony  of  hearers  of  every  order,  that  he  was  not 
to  be  surpassed.  That  of  Fox  on  a certain  occasion  was  that 
“if  Demosthenes  had  been  present,  he  must  have  admired, 
and  might  have  envied.”  The  most  strenuous  opponents  of  his 
policy  found  the  House  of  Commons  very  desolate  when  its  roof 
no  longer  echoed  back  the  voice  which  stirred  the  spirit  as  much 
as  its  articulate  utterance  roused  the  whole  mind,  through  all  its 
range  of  faculties.  The  composure  of  manner  and  dignity  of 
bearing  which  were  maintained  throughout  his  most  stimulating 
addresses  added  prodigiously  to  their  power.  How  both  enhanced 
the  charm  of  his  social  intercourses  we  can  conceive  after  read- 
ing what  was  said  of  him  by  the  pure  and  conscientious  Wilber- 
force  after  a life-long  observation  of  his  mind  and  character.1 
“ Mr.  Pitt  had  foibles,  and  of  course  they  were  not  diminished 
by  so  long  a continuance  in  office ; but  for  a clear  and  compre- 
hensive view  of  the  most  complicated  subject  in  all  its  relations ; 
for  that  fairness  of  mind  which  disposes  a man  to  follow  out,  and 
when  overtaken,  to  recognize  the  truth  ; for  magnanimity,  which 
made  him  ready  to  change  his  measures  w7hen  he  thought  the 
good  of  the  country  required  it,  though  he  knew  he  should  be 
charged  with  inconsistency  on  account  of  the  change  ; for  will- 
ingness to  give  a fair  heari ng  to  all  that  could  be  urged  against 
his  own  opinions,  and  to  listen  to  the  suggestions  of  men  whose 
understanding  he  knew  to  be  inferior  to  his  own ; for  personal 
purity,  disinterestedness,  integrity,  and  love  of  his  country,  — I 
have  never  known  his  equal.” 

1 Life  of  Wilberforce,  iii.  p.  249. 


144 


ARTHUR  WELLESLEY. —HINDUSTAN.  [Book  I. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Three  months  before  the  date  at  which  our  History  opens, 
the  Governor-General  to  India,  the  Marquess  Wellesley,  wrote 
to  Mr.  Addington,1  “ My  brother  Arthur  has  distinguished  him- 
Arthur  Wei-  se^  most  brilliantly.”  This  brother  Arthur  was  then 
lesiey  in  thirty  years  of  age  ; and  his  fame  came  in  with  the 
century  which  his  deeds  will  render  illustrious  in  Eu- 
ropean history.  What  he  had  now  done  was  to  prove  that  his 
forces  could  deal  with  the  light  troops  of  roving  cavalry  which 
were  the  main  reliance  of  the  enemy  in  India,  as  well  as  with 
regular  armies  and  fortified  cities.  This  had  never  been  proved 
before,  and,  as  the  Marquess  Wellesley  observed,  “ This  is  a 
most  important  object.  The  only  power  of  any  importance  in  In- 
dia is  the  Mahratta.  Their  force,  of  any  value,  consists  entirely 
of  cavalry,  precisely  of  the  nature  of  that  destroyed  by  Colonel 
Wellesley.”  A war  was  now  impending  with  this  only  power  of 
any  importance  in  India.  To  understand  the  grounds  of  the  very 
serious  conflict  in  which  the  rising  soldier  won  his  first  extraordi- 
nary victories,  it  is  necessary  to  glance  at  the  natural  conditions 
of  the  area  in  which  the  great  conflict  took  place  ; and  at  the 
causes  of  the  quarrel. 

The  Peninsula  of  India  is  divided  from  the  upper  part  of  our 
Hindustan  possessions  there  by  a chain  of  mountains,  the  Vindhya 
range.  The  upper  part,  north  of  this  range,  is  Hin- 
doostfin  proper;  the  lower  triangular  peninsula  is  the  Deccan. 
In  the  upper  part,  we  find  eastwards  the  great  basin  of  the  Gan- 
ges, with  its  innumerable  streams,  its  rank  vegetation  and  rich 
culture,  and  its  race  of  inhabitants  raised  by  the  geological  cir- 
cumstances above  the  other  inhabitants  of  India  in  intelligence 
and  the  arts  of  life.  There,  in  the  seasons  of  inundation,  are 
seen  the  villages  clustered  on  the  rising  grounds,  surrounded  by 
a wide  waste  of  waters,  through  which  appear  the  tops  of  the 
forests  under  whose  shade  the  inhabitants  live  when  the  waters 
have  gone  down.  There  spread  the  rice-fields,  and  the  impene- 
trable jungles  to  which  the  wild  beasts  descend  from  the  hills 
when  the  waters  have  gone  down  ; and  there  are  interspersed  the 
towns  where  our  western  race  has  carried  its  knowledge  and  its 

1 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  i.  p.  268. 


Chap.  VII-l 


THE  DECCAN. 


145 


arts.  — From  Bengal  and  Bahar  the  surface  rises  to  a table-land 
which,  drained  by  the  slope,  and  enjoying  a cooler  climate,  pro- 
duces crops  of  wheat  and  other  European  grains,  with  the  rice, 
tobacco,  cotton,  and  indigo,  which  are  the  growth  of  tropical  coun- 
tries. The  palm  disappears;  and  almonds,  peaches,  figs,  and 
Chinese  and  English  fruits,  take  its  place.  The  trees  shed  their 
leaves  in  December,  and  forests  are  rare  up  to  the  skirts  of  the 
Himalaya  mountains  on  the  north.  In  this  division  lie  the  great 
cities  which  were  the  capitals  of  the  mightiest  Indian  potentates 
before  Europeans  set  foot  in  the  country  — Canoge,  which  once 
occupied  an  area  equal  to  that  of  London,  Cawnpoor,  Agra,  Del- 
hi, and  others.  Westwards,  the  country  sinks  into  a series  of 
sandy  plains,  stretching  to  the  basin  of  the  Indus.  In  that  tract 
there  are  no ’mountains,  nor,  therefore,  rivers,  nor  rains;  and  it 
is,  of  course,  barren.  At  the  beginning  of  the  century,  this  was 
considered  our  natural  frontier  on  the  west  of  Hindustan. 

As  for  the  Peninsula,  bounded  on  the  north,  as  we  have  said, 
by  the  Vindhya  range,  and  having  the  sea  round  all  The  Deckan 
the  rest  of  it  — its  shores  are  low  and  rugged,  forming 
a belt  between  the  sea  and  the  mountain-ranges,  called  Ghfits, 
which  follow  the  form  of  the  peninsula,  for  the  most  part.  This 
low  and  rugged  strip  is  narrowest  on  the  western  side,  commanded 
by  Bombay  and  Goa.  The  Ghats  are  highest  on  that  side ; and 
it  is  easily  conceived  that  their  passes,  which  are  few  and  difficult, 
are  of  the  utmost  importance  to.  the  command  of  the  interior. 
That  interior  is  a vast  table-land,  — another  natural  seat  of  the 
ancient  powers  of  India.  This  table-land  is  traversed  by  rivers, 
most  of  which  flow  eastwards,  as  the  eastern  coast,  commanded  by 
Madras,  is  the  least  precipitous.  Only  one  very  large  river 
runs  westwards,  and  that  one  — the  Nerbudda  — flows  in  a hol- 
low formed  between  the  northern  range,  the  Vindhya,  and  the 
parallel  range  of  the  Satpoora  mountains.  The  two  great  rivers 
which  run  eastwards  are  the  Godavery  and  the  Kistna.  They 
divide  not  only  the  table-land  but  its  characteristics.  North  and 
east  of  the  Godavery,  the  country  is  one  vast  forest  region,  where 
villages  and  tracts  of  cultivated  land  appear  like  islands  in  an 
ocean.'  Southwest  of  the  Godavery,  down  to  the  Kistna,  expos- 
ure and  cultivation  are  the  rule,  and  woods  are  the  exception. 
Here,  trains  of  laden  bullocks,  coming  up  from  the  coasts,  are 
seen  emerging  from  the  passes,  having  little  or  no  descent  to  make, 
though  they  had  had  weary  work  climbing  the  steeps  from  the 
other  side  ; and,  on  the  other  hand,  travellers  bound  for  the  coast 
enter  the  passes  straight  from  the  comparatively  cool  and  fresh  in- 
terior, and  go  down  and  dowm  into  heat  and  closeness  and  rank 
tropical  vegetation,  or  burning  rocks  and  sands,  till  they  can 
hardly  believe  that  they  have  not  changed  their  latitude. 

VOL.  i.  10 


146 


SUBSIDIARY  SYSTEM. 


[Book  I. 


Some  persons  consider  the  Deccan  to  terminate  at  the  Kistna, 
and  not  to  include  the  point  of  the  peninsula ; but  the  distinction 
is  of  no  importance  to  us  here,  and  the  character  of  the  country 
does  not  appear  to  bear  it  out.  The  great  table-land  of  Mysore, 
the  country  of  Tippoo  Sultan,  where  stands  his  great  city  of  Se- 
ringapatam,  seems  of  a piece  with  the  rest,  though  it  is  south  of 
the  Kistna  ; and  so  is  a good  deal  of  the  Carnatic,  to  the  east  of 
Mysore.  The  strip  of  low  land  between  the  western  Ghats  and 
the  sea  is  called  by  the  general  name  of  Malabar,  though  it  was 
divided  among  various  powers  when  the  century  opened.  — 
Such  was  the  area  of  the  coming  conflict  in  1800.  A clear 
comprehension  of  it  helps  us  to  understand  the  position  and  oper- 
ations of  the  parties  concerned  in  the  great  Mahratta  war,  in 
which  the  “ brother  Arthur  ” was  to  win  his  fame. 

It  was  now  no  longer  a question  whether  England  was  to  hold 
her  Indian  empire.  Whether  she  liked  it  or  not,  and  whatever 
it  cost  her,  there  she  was,  (represented  by  a little  nation  of  her 
soldier  and  merchant  sons,)  and  there  she  must  remain,  and  act 
for  the  best.  The  native  potentates  had  always  quarrelled  among 
themselves  ; and  their  wars  would  be  internecine  if  she  now 
withdrew  (supposing  withdrawal  to  be  otherwise  possible).  There 
were  statesmen  at  home  who,  in  their  hearts,  wished  that  a cloud 
had  forever  hidden  that  peninsula  from  western  eyes ; but  it 
could  not  now  be  helped.  England  had  millions  of  subjects  there 
who  must  be  protected,  and  allies  who  could  not  be  deserted. 
This  necessity  led  on  that  of  conquest ; and  the  Subsidiary  Sys- 
tem of  Marquess  Wellesley  was  the  natural  consequence;  and 
not  only  the  natural  consequence,  but.  as  is  now  generally  agreed, 
the  policy  which  was  the  wisest  and  the  most  humane. 

The  potentates  and  their  peoples  in  India  hated  the  British 
Subsidiary  with  the  natural  hatred  which  follows  the  footsteps  of 
System.  foreign  intruders,  and  the  conquests  of  foreign  victors ; 
and  they  were  thus  ready  to  join  against  the  British,  and  eager 
for  the  French  alliance,  while  they  were  fighting  among  them- 
selves about  questions  of  succession,  or  some  other  cause  of  feud. 
It  was  impossible  to  leave  them  to  themselves,  with  any  regard 
to  the  safety  of  our  own  fellow-subjects  there ; and  yet,  no  one 
desired  that  they  should  be  so  slavishly  humbled  as  to  be  annexed 
to  our  empire  unconditionally,  and  in  a heterogeneous  mass  which 
it  might  be  difficult  to  rule,  and  impossible  to  civilize.  Lord 
Wellesley’s  policy  was  to  use  every  occasion  on  which  we  were 
compelled  to  interfere  with  an  Indian  state,  (to  defend  ourselves, 
or  to  put  a stop  to  exterminating  violence,)  to  render  such  a state 
subsidiary  to  us,  while  preserving  its  native  rulers,  religion,  and 
customs.  When  he  had  conquered  an  invading  or  intriguing 
neighbor,  Lord  Wellesley  installed  a government,  subject  to  con- 


Chap.  VII.]  THE  MAHRATTAS.  — THE  PEISHWA. 


147 


trol  in  matters  of  state  importance,  and  compelled  the  government 
to  make  a perpetual  treaty,  by  the  terms  of  which  it  was  agreed 
that  a Political  Resident,  and  a certain  armed  force  under  British 
command,  should  be  maintained  at  the  expense  of  the  tributary 
state.  By  this  method  of  management,  the  conquered  peoples 
preserved  their  modes  of  living,  and  had  their  own  sovereign  con- 
tinually before  their  eyes ; and  were  therefore  spared  some  of  the 
mortifications  and  hardships  of  conquest ; but  their  freedom  and 
dignity  were  as  completely  gone  as  if  all  had  been  trampled  down 
together  under  the  march  of  British  armies.  The  Opposition  in 
parliament  had  in  this  system  an  inexhaustible  theme  of  complaint 
and  reprobation  against  Mr.  Pitt  and  Mr.  Addington  and  their  ad- 
ministrations, who  supported  the  Wellesleys  in  their  Indian  policy ; 
and  all  that  Opposition  could  say  of  the  fact  of  the  despotism, 
and  of  the  violation  of  the  rights  of  states,  as  conceived  of  in 
Europe,  was  true  and  incontrovertible.  The  question  was  whether 
the  wrong  and  misery  of  pursuing  any  other  course  was  not  greater. 
It  seems  now  to  be  generally  agreed  that  the  Wellesley  policy 
was  the  best,  under  the  sad  conditions  of  the  case.  But  at  the 
time,  even  the  majority  in  the  India  Company  were  so  opposed 
to  it  that  Lord  Wellesley  once  resigned  his  government,  and  only 
remained  in  office  at  the  earnest  entreaty  of  Mr.  Pitt  and  Mr. 
Addington.  — At  the  opening  of  the  century,  the  conquests  and 
control  which  we  had  obtained  were  making  necessary  more  con- 
quests and  more  control ; as  a slight  sketch  of  the  personages  and 
the  circumstances  will  show. 

The  Mahrattas  were  originally  a hardy  mountaineer  tribe,  who 
rose  into  importance  in  the  time  of  the  great  Aurung-  The  Mah- 
zebe.  Their  strong  leader,  Sevajee,  founded  their  em-  rattas- 
pire,  and  died  in  1682.  During  the  latter  part  of  the  last  cen- 
tury, the  Mahratta  empire  rapidly  declined ; and,  when  Lord 
Wellesley  went  to  India,  it  was  split  into  portions  which  had  to 
be  separately  dealt  with.  At  the  opening  of  the  period  we  are 
now  to  survey,  those  portions  were  five,  under  as  many  chiefs 
chiefs.  The  five  chiefs  were  the  Peishwa,  Bhoonsla, 

Holkar,  Scindia,  and  Guickwar.  Let  us  see  who  these  men 
were  — where  they  were  placed  — and  what  was  our  concern 
with  them. 

The  Peishwa  means  the  Prime  Minister.  This  indicates  that 
there  was  a sovereign.  There  was  a nominal  sovereign 
of  the  Mahrattas,  — the  Rajah  of  Satara  ; but  he  had  e eib  wa’ 
no  power,  and  was  mentioned  at  all  only  because  his  powerful 
subjects  revered  royalty  of  race.  The  Prime  Minister  ruled ; 
and  the  office  of  Prime  Minister  was  made  hereditary.  — Near 
the  edge  of  the  table-land  of  the  Deccan,  not  very  far  from  Bom- 
bay, is  Poonah,  a fortress  situated  in  a rich  and  flourishing 


148 


BHOONSLA.  — HOLKAR. 


[Book  I. 


region,  which  the  Peishwa  (the  greatest  man  of  the  five,  and 
their  acknowledged  head)  had  obtained  from  the  helpless  Rajah, 
and  from  conquered  neighbors.  Though  treated  as  the  head  of 
the  Mahratta  chieftains,  the  Peishwa  was  yet  weak  and  untrust- 
worthy. Sometimes  he  could  not  hold  his  ground  but  by  Brit- 
ish aid  ; sometimes  he  leaned  to  France,  and  had  to  be  watched ; 
sometimes  he  was  under  the  dictation  of  his  confederate  Scindia. 
No  reliance  could  be  placed  on  either  his  power  or  his  good-will. 
But  there  he  was  at  Poonah,  holding  his  court,  and  enjoying 
the  reputation  and  ostentation  of  being  the  greatest  man  of  the 
Mahrattas. 

The  second  in  order  (not  in  greatness)  of  the  five  was  Bhoon- 
Bhoonsia  s^a*  ^een  Ck>mmander-in-Chief  under  the  poor 

Rajah  of  ’ Rajah,  and,  like  the  Prime  Minister,  was  tempted  to 
make  himself  an  independent  prince.  His  territory 
was  Berar,  on  the  northeast  of  Poonah,  — a part  of  the  table- 
land lying  under  the  mountain  boundary,  and  consisting  mainly 
of  the  forest  land,  sprinkled  with  villages  and  cultivation,  which 
has  been  described.  In  the  war  which  was  approaching,  this 
Berar  Rajah  was  expected  to  look  northwards,  over  the  moun- 
tain boundary,  towards  Benares,  and  other  rich  cities  on  the 
Ganges  and  the  Jumna,  and  also  to  the  east,  to  secure  the  coast 
from  the  attacks  of  the  British,  and  to  facilitate  the  access  of 
French  allies. 

The  great  soldier  Holkar  was  the  third.  Fie  was  not  in  the 
Hoikar  Deccan,  his  territory  being  the  rich  province  of  Mal- 
wah,  on  the  north  of  the  Vindhya  chain,  and  including 
a portion  of  that  range.  Holkar  was  at  war  with  the  next  on 
the  list,  Scindia,  at  the  beginning  of  the  century ; and  no  ene- 
mies could  be  more  furious  against  each  other  than  were  these 
Mahratta  chieftains.  Their  quarrel  was  about  the  succession  to 
Holkar’s  province,  — Scindia  having  killed  a brother  of  Holkar’s, 
and  Holkar,  himself  illegitimate,  now  carrying  on  war  on  behalf 
of  an  infant  heir.  He  thought  he  could  best  mortify  Scindia  by 
humbling  the  Peishwa ; and  he  marched  to  Poonah  to  do  so,  in 
1801.  He  succeeded  so  abundantly  that  the  Peishwa  sent  a 
supplication  to  the  British  government,  entreating  support,  in 
return  for  which  he  would  become  tributary  to  the  East  India 
' Company.  Lord  W ellesley  was  glad  of  such  an  opening ; and 
the  agreement  was  presently  made.  It  was  thought  a good 
opportunity  to  make  alliances  with  as  many  of  the  Mahratta 
chiefs  as  could  be  won  ; and  an  ambassador  was  sent  to  Scindia, 
the  great  supporter  of  the  Peishwa.  Holkar  placed  on  the  mus - 
nud  (or  throne)  a puppet  sovereign,  in  whose  name,  apparently 
without  his  will,  affairs  were  transacted  at  Poonah,  — the  Peish- 
wa being  conveyed  by  the  Bombay  government  to  a place  of 


Chap.  VII.] 


SCINDIA.  — GUICKWAR. 


149 


safety.  But  Mysore  was  now  in  danger  from  the  victorious 
Holkar  being  so  near  ; and  a British  force  was  sent,  under  Lord 
Clive,  to  watch  the  Mahratta  frontier.  The  Bombay  troops  were 
also  kept  in  readiness  for  action,  as  occasion  might  arise.  All 
this  time,  Holkar  and  Scindia  both  earnestly  sought  alliance  with 
the  British,  as  a means,  no  doubt,  of  security  against  each  other. 

Scindia,  the  fourth  on  our  list,  was  even  a more  renowned  war- 
rior than  Holkar.  His  territory  adjoined  that  of  Hoi-  gcindia 
kar,  being  the  northwestern  portion  of  the  Deccan, 
including  Kandeish  and  a part  of  Malwah.  The  fifth  Guickwar 
chieftain,  Guickwar,  had  Guzerat,  the  peninsula  in  the 
western  sea,  northwest  of  the  Deccan.  The  territories  of  the  five 
chieftains  thus  extended  from  Delhi  to  the  Kistna,  a length  of 
970  miles  ; and  from  the  Bay  of  Bengal  to  the  Gulf  of  Cambay, 
a breadth  of  900  miles.  They  ruled  over  a population  Their  em- 
of  40,000,000  ; and  their  armies  comprehended  210,000  Pire- 
infantry  and  100,000  cavalry.  They  had  the  assistance  of  French 
officers  and  troops  ; and  Scindia  had  made  such  presents  of  terri- 
tory to  M.  Perron,  a French  officer,  on  the  banks  of  the  Jumna 
and  the  Ganges,  as  in  fact  constituted  a French  state  in  the  midst 
of  the  richest  regions  of  the  north.  To  make  war  with  the  Mah- 
ratta chiefs  was  therefore  to  carry  on  in  India  the  war  with 
France,  into  which  England  had  reentered  after  the  peace  of 
Amiens. 

It  has  been  seen  that  the  Bombay  government  gave  a refuge 
to  the  Peishwa  when  Holkar  drove  him  from  Poonah  ; and  that 
an  army  of  observation  was  sent  to  save  Mysore  in  the  south 
from  Holkar.  The  Peishwa  made  a treaty  with  the  English 
(called  the  Treaty  of  Bassein)  on  the  last  day  of  1802,  by  which 
he  bound  himself  to  perpetual  alliance  with  the  British,  if  they 
would  restore  him.  The  great  Mahratta  war  began  with  the  at- 
tempt to  do  this. 

Scindia  and  Bhoonsla,  being  alarmed  at  the  demonstrations  of 
the  British,  urged  Holkar  to  join  them,  laying  aside  Mahratta 
quarrels  to  repel  the  great  common  enemy,  as  they  considered 
the  British ; and  they  spared  no  pains  to  draw  off  the  Peishwa 
himself,  their  tool  and  victim,  from  his  alliance  with  England. 
As  Scindia  had  some  possessions  and  great  povver  in  Guzerat, 
Guick war’s  territory,  it  will  be  seen  that  the  impending  war  was 
in  fact  between  the  British  and  the  confederated  Mahratta  chief- 
tains, who  were  in  the  interest  of  France. 

Having  thus  surveyed  the  area  and  the  parties,  we  now  come 
to  the  war. 

On  the  frontier,  between  Mysore  and  the  South  Mahratta 
country,  is  Hurryhur ; and  there  was  stationed  the  The  Mah- 
British  army  of  observation,  under  the  command  of  ratta  war* 


150 


THE  MAHRATTA  WAR. 


[Book  I. 


General  Stuart.  After  the  treaty  of  Bassein,  the  General  was 
desired  to  detach  a considerable  force,  and  send  them  into  the 
Mahratta  country.  The  command  of  this  detachment  was  given 
to  the  “brother  Arthur”  of  whom  the  Governor- General  was  so 
proud.  Major-General  Wellesley  was  peculiarly  fitted  for  the 
service  now  appointed  to  him  by  his  local  knowledge,  gained  in 
the  Mysore  war,  and  by  his  influence  with  the  Mahratta  chiefs. 
And  wherever  he  went,  some  other  qualifications  won  for  him 
the  respect  and  confidence  of  the  inhabitants.  He  repressed  li- 
cense in  his  troops,  and  was  considerate  beyond  example  to  the 
peasantry,  consulting  their  feelings,  remembering  their  interests, 
and  manifesting  a steadiness  of  temper  and  calm  kindness  of  man- 
ners which  gave  him  more  power  than  all  his  merely  military 
qualifications,  great  as  they  were.  He  had  been  long  ready  for 
the  service  now  required  of  him,  having  prepared,  two  years  be- 
fore, a statement  of  the  method  in  which  war  with  the  Mahrattas 
should  be  carried  on.  He  had  then  recommended  Hurry hur  for 
the  point  of  starting.  The  best  season  he  considered  to  be  that 
of  the  filling  of  the  rivers  which  descend  from  the  Western 
Ghats,  about  June,  as  a full  river  would  prevent  the  Mahratta 
cavalry  from  intercepting  the  supplies  which  must  be  sent  after 
the  army  from  Mysore,  while  the  British  would  find  little  diffi- 
culty in  passing  the  army  over  first  by  a pontoon-bridge,  and  sup- 
plies afterwards  by  basket-boats.  At  that  season,  too,  there 
would  be  least  of  that  deficiency  of  water  which  was  one  of  the 
chief  hardships  of  war  with  the  Mahrattas.  Their  land  afforded 
plenty  of  straw  for  the  horses,  and  some  cattle  for  human  food  ; 
but  the  main  supplies  of  rice  must  come  from  Mysore  ; and  also 
the  arrack.  For  two  years,  these  and  other  conditions  of  the  war 
had  been  studied  and  prepared  ; and  now,  on  the  9th  of  March, 
1803,  the  campaign  was  begun  by  the  march  from  Hurryhur  of 
nearly  10,000  cavalry  and  infantry,  besides  the  requisite  artillery, 
and  2500  of  Mysore  cavalry.  A large  force,  under  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Stevenson,  was  to  meet  him  from  Hydrabad  ; and  they 
must  make  the  best  of  the  bad  season  of  the  year,  it  being  now 
nearly  three  months  earlier  than  the  time  that  General  Wellesley 
would  have  chosen  for  the  commencement  of  operations.  Every 
facility  was,  however,  afforded  by  the  petty  chiefs  through  whose 
country  the  army  passed,  as  General  YVellesley  was  popular  with 
them  in  the  highest  degree.  By  the  middle  of  April,  the  two 
forces  were  near  each  other,  on  the  approach  to  Poonah,  whence 
Hoikar  was  in  retreat,  having  left  orders  with  the  tools  whom  he 
had  put  into  power  there  to  destroy  the  city  on  the  appearance  of 
the  British  army.  “ I expect  to  be  at  Poonah  some  time  about 
the  20,”  1 wrote  General  Wellesley,  on  hearing  this  news  ; and  on 
1 Wellington  Despatches,  i.  p.  480. 


Chap.  VII.] 


NEGOTIATIONS. 


151 


the  20th  he  was  there,  after  a memorable  forced  march,  rendered 
extremely  difficult  by  the  badness  of  the  road  down  the  Ghat. 
While  his  carriages  were  breaking  down,  or  sticking  fast  in  black 
mud,  the  authorities  at  Poonah  withdrew ; but  the  city  p00nah 
was  saved  from  its  doom  of  burning,  while  the  British  saved- 
were  in  possession  of  an  exceedingly  strong  post : “ in  a position 
from  which  nothing  can  drive  us,”  as  the  General  wrote.  With 
all  its  delays,  the  march  upon  Poonah  was  effected  in  thirty- two 
hours.  The  inhabitants  flocked  in  from  the  mountains,  where 
they  had  hidden  themselves ; and  the  Peishwa  was  restored  with- 
out delay,  entering  his  capital  on  the  13th  of  May,  amidst  prodi- 
gious demonstrations  of  joy.  On  the  next  day,  the  opinion  of 
General  Wellesley1  was  that  there  were  no  hopes  of  a speedy  re- 
turn to  Mysore,  but  that  the  business  of  the  Mahrattas  would  be 
settled  without  hostility,  and  pretty  soon.  When  this  declaration 
was  written,  negotiations  were  going  on  with  Scindia 
at  his  camp,  amidst  the  strongest  professions,  on  his  Neg0tiatl0ns* 
part,  of  good-will  and  peaceable  intentions.  But  these  professions 
were  false  ; and,  in  another  month,  the  necessity  for  war  with 
Scindia  and  his  ally,  Bhoonsla  of  Berar,  was  apparent.  It  was 
clear  that  they  were  in  alliance  with  l lolkar,  and  that  they  were 
stimulating  their  French  coadjutor,  M.  Perron,  to  aid  them,  not 
only  by  his  own  resources,  but  by  obtaining  the  help  of  the 
mountain  tribes  of  the  northwest.  On  the  discovery  of  this 
confederacy,  it  was  thought  necessary  to  place  full  political  and 
military  authority,  in  relation  to  the  affairs  of  the  Deccan,  in  the 
hands  of  some  one  on  the  spot,  who  should  be  subject  only  to  the 
Governor- General ; and  there  could  be  no  doubt  that  General 
Wellesley  was  the  man  to  whom  this  post  should  be  confided. 
He  received  this  new  trust  on  the  26th  of  June. 

During  July,  much  negotiation  with  the  chiefs  went  on,  the 
main  result  of  which  was  that  everybody  was  convinced  of  the 
utter  duplicity  of  Scindia  and  Bhoonsla,  and  that  their  object  was, 
by  any  means,  to  get  the  British  forces  marched  back  to  some 
safe  distance,  before  the  periodical  rains,  which  would  make  it 
impossible  for  them  to  reoccupy  their  present  stations  for  some 
months.  By  lengthening  out  the  negotiations,  too,  time  was 
given  for  a great  French  force,  under  the  care  of  Admiral  Linois, 
to  land  at  Pondicherry,  and  pass  into  the  territory  of  M.  Perron 
and  his  native  allies.  By  the  Amiens  Treaty,  Pondicherry,  and 
the  other  former  possessions  of  France  and  of  Holland  in  the  In- 
dies, had  been  restored,  without  any  of  the  former  limitations  of 
the  force  to  be  sent  there.  This  great  oversight  of  Mr.  Adding- 
ton and  his  colleagues,  the  Wellesleys  repaired,  as  far  as  they 
could,  by  assiduously  watching  Pondicherry  and  the  neighboring 
1 Wellington  Despatches,  i.  p.  572. 


152 


WELLESLEY  IN  THE  DECCAN. 


[Book  I. 


coasts.  No  French  troops  left  Pondicherry  during  the  negotia- 
tions with  the  Mahratta  chiefs  ; and  before  these  negotiations 
were  concluded,  the  news  arriving  of  the  breaking  out  of  the  war 
with  France,  the  troops  just  landed  were  all  made  prisoners. 
About  the  same  time,  the  Nizam,  the  chief  Prince  of  the  Deccan, 
and  an  ally  of  the  British,  was  known  to  be  dying ; and  the  con- 
federated chiefs  were  well  understood  to  be  waiting  only  for  his 
death  to  take  the  succession  to  his  territories  into  their  Own  hands. 
Understanding  all  these  things,  General  Wellesley  saw  war  to  be 
inevitable,  and  was  anxious  to  make  it  as  brief  and  effectual  as 
possible.  Before  the  British  Ambassador  had  left  the  camp  of 
Scindia,  on  the  final  rupture  of  the  negotiations,  a magnificent 
plan  of  a campaign  had  been  laid  by  the  brothers  Wellesley,  and 
the  preparations  so  matured,  in  profound  secrecy,  as  to  allow 
the  enemy  no  time  to  look  about  them.  This  was  well ; for  the 
Nizam  died  on  the  day  that  our  Ambassador  left  Scindia’s  camp. 

The  plan  of  the  campaign  is  easily  understood  ; for  it  was  as 
Plan  of  simple  as  it  was  grand.  The  confederates  were  to  be 
campaign.  simultaneously  and  immediately  attacked  at  all  points. 
Their  whole  united  empire  was  to  be,  as  it  were,  surrounded.  A 
glance  at  the  map  will  show  how  this  was  done  ; how,  by  four 
British  armies,  all  victorious,  the  business  was  finished  in  five 
months. 

First:  Generals  Wellesley  and  Campbell  and  Colonel  Steven- 
Generai  son  undertook  Scindia  and  his  great  combined  army  in 
Wellesley  in  the  Deccan.  Scindia  was  at  the  foot  of  the  Adjuntee 
the  Deccan.  pagg?  which  we  see  among  the  mountains  north  of  Au- 
rungabad,  in  the  northwest  part  of  the  Deccan.  General  Welles- 
ley, with  his  force  of  near  1 7,000  men,  was  near  Poonah,  when  the 
British  Ambassador  left  Scindia’s  camp.  He  marched  without 
delay  — on  the  8th  of  August ; and  on  the  12th  had  obtained  pos- 
session of  the  strong  fortress  and  town  of  Ahmednuggur ; by  which 
conquest  he  secured  his  communication  with  Poonah,  and  an 
open  passage  for  provisions  and  other  stores,  and  a depot  for  them. 
He  crossed  the  Godavery  on  the  24th,  and  on  the  29th  arrived 
at  Aurungabad.  Colonel  Stevenson  was  to  the  east  of  him ; but 
the  enemy  passed  between  them,  intending  to  cross  the  Godavery, 
and  march  upon  Hydrabad,  the  capital  of  the  deceased  Nizam. 
Colonel  Stevenson  marched  down  towards  the  enemy,  and  Gen- 
eral Wellesley  followed  the  bank  of  the  river  towards  the  south- 
east ; and  Scindia  therefore  fell  back  northwards.  He  was  joined 
by  large  reinforcements  hear  Jaffierabad.  The  British  generals 
effected  a junction  by  the  21st  of  September  at  Budnapoor,  a lit- 
tle to  the  east  of  Aurungabad,  whence  they  intended  to  march 
and  attack  Scindia  on  the  24th.  They  set  out  round  the  hills, 
Colonel  Stevenson  by  the  western,  and  General  Wellesley  by  the 


Chai*.  vn.]  BATTLES  OF  ASSYE  AND  ARGAUM. 


153 


eastern  road.  On  the  morning  of  the  23d,  the  latter  had  informa- 
tion that  the  combined  Mahratta  force  was  within  six  Battle  of 
miles  of  him.  Lest  they  should  get  away  in  the  night,  Assye* 
and  thus  elude  the  general  action  which  he  desired  to  bring  on, 
he  determined  to  attack  them  at  once,  without  waiting  for  the 
arrival  of  Colonel  Stevenson.  His  army  would  then  have  marched 
twenty  miles  to  the  field  where  the  Mahrattas  had  been  resting. 
His  force  consisted  of  4500  men,  while  that  of  the  enemy  was 
between  thirty  and  forty  thousand.  With  this  small  force,  he 
fought  and  gained  the  celebrated  battle  of  Assye.1  The  Mahrattas, 
after  some  manoeuvres,  posted  themselves  between  the  village  of 
Assye  and  the  river  Kaitna.  After  a slaughterous  conflict  of 
three  hours,  during  which  the  Mahrattas  rallied  again  and  again, 
they  fled  in  the  direction  of  the  Adjuntee  pass,  leaving  the  coun- 
try strewed  with  their  dead  and  wounded.  They  left  the  con- 
queror in  possession  of  98  pieces  of  cannon,  7 standards,  their 
whole  camp  equipage,  droves  of  bullocks  and  camels,  and  large 
stores  of  ammunition  and  provision.  Of  the  British,  600  were 
killed,  and  1500  wounded:  a heavy  loss  out  of  so  small  a force, 
though  trifling  in  comparison  with  that  of  the  enemy.  Colonel 
Stevenson  came  up  in  the  evening,  to  find  that  his  colleague 
had  utterly  routed  a force  six  times  as  great  as  his  own.  He  was 
too  late,  unhappily,  to  share  the  glory  of  the  field  of  Assye  ; but 
he  did  what  he  could  in  pursuing  the  foe.  The  Mahrattas  did 
not  ascend  the  Adjuntee  pass,  but  moved  westwards,  as  if  to 
threaten  Poonah.  General  Wellesley  followed  them,  as  soon  as 
he  had  taken  care  of  his  wounded  and  of  his  prey  ; and  directed 
Colonel  Stevenson  to  get  possession  of  the  strong  hill  fortress  of 
Asseerghur,  called  the  key  of  the  Deccan,  and  of  Burhampoor,  a 
little  to  the  south  of  it.  This  was  done  without  difficulty,  — Bur- 
hampoor surrendering  on  the  16th,  and  Asseerghur  on.  the  17th  of 
October.  Meantime,  the  General  was  following  the  enemy,  who 
had  made  two  long  marches  southwards,  as  if  intending  to  levy  con- 
tributions on  the  Nizam’s  cities,  or  to  attack  Poonah,  while  the  Brit- 
ish were  occupied  with  the  northern  forts.  This,  as  General  Wel- 
lesley observed,  would  not  be  very  pleasant ; and  he  therefore  left 
the  service  in  the  north  to  Colonel  Stevenson,  while  he  kept  on  the 
track  of  the  Mahratta  army,  undeceived  by  their  stratagems,  and 
never  drawn  aside  by  their  feints.  After  many  marchings,  by 
which  nothing  was  gained  by  Scindia,  he  begged  a truce  ; and  be- 
tween the  11th  and  23d  of  November,  a truce  was  arranged.  But 
it  presently  appeared  that  Scindia’s  horse  were  to  be  seen  in 
Bhoonsla’s  army.  He  had  broken  faith  so  completely,  that  no 
further  consideration  could  be  shown  him.  The  battle  Battle  of 
of  Argaum  finished  the  humiliation  of  the  confederates  Argaum. 

1 Wellington  Despatches,  ii.  pp.  323-328. 


154 


MURRAY  IN  GUZERAT. 


[Book  I. 


in  this  quarter.  At  the  end  of  a long  march  on  a hot  day,  the 
General  and  his  troops  saw  the  forces  of  the  enemy  drawn  out 
in  a long  line,  far  in  front  of  them,  with  villages  and  gardens 
behind  them,  and  the  plain  of  Argaum  in  front.  The  British 
were  led  against  them  immediately ; and  they  found  the  line  to 
be  long  indeed  — not  less  than  five  miles.  It  was  presently 
broken  by  the  onset  of  the  British ; and  the  result  of  the  con- 
flict till  dark  was,  that  the  Mahrattas  and  their  Persian  rein- 
forcements fled,  leaving  behind  them  38  pieces  of  cannon,  and  all 
their  ammunition.1  The  British  loss  was  small,  and  the  triumph 
great ; the  cavalry  scouring  the  country  by  moonlight,  dispersing 
more  widely  the  flying  enemy,  and  sending  into  camp  elephants, 
camels,  and  much  baggage.  One  more  achievement  remained. 
The  great  fortress  of  Gawulghur,  supposed  impregnable,  was  taken 
by  the  combined  forces  of  Colonel  Stevenson  and  General  Welles- 
ley. It  was  stormed  on  the  loth  of  December.  Bhoonsla  could 
hold  out  no  longer.  He  sued  immediately  for  a separate  peace  ; 2 
Peace  with  and  the  treaty  was  signed  on  the  17th.  By  this  treaty, 
Bhoonsla.  the  province  of  Cuttack  was  annexed  to  the  British 
dominions  in  India,  and  provision  was  made  against  the  French, 
or  any  other  enemy  of  England,  fighting  against  us,  under  the 
colors  of  the  Rajah  of  Berar.  Other  advantages  were  obtained ; 
for  the  Rajah  was  completely  humbled.  In  a few  days,  Scindia 
with  Scin-  also  submitted,  and  his  treaty  was  signed  on  the  30th 
dia-  of  December.  He  was  driven  out  of  the  Deccan,  ex- 

cept by  the  foothold  of  one  fort  and  one  city,  and  forbidden  to 
interfere  in  any  affairs  there  ; he  was  deprived  of  some  strong 
places  and  of  his  territory  in  the  Douab,  in  Hindustan,  and  of 
possessions  elsewhere  ; and  he  was  bound,  like  Bhoonsla,  to  admit 
no  European  enemy  of  Great  Britain  into  his  army  or  civil  ser- 
vice. Scindia  was  to  receive  the  aid  and  protection  afforded  by 
the  subsidiary  connection  with  Great  Britain  which  the  Governor- 
General  was  extending  over  India.  From  our  ally  or  foe,  he  had 
brought  himself  to  be  our  dependant.  The  fall  was  sad,  for  one  so 
haughty  ; but  his  double-dealing,  from  first  to  last,  deprived  him 
of  much  of  the  compassion  of  his  conqueror. 

Such  were  the  achievements  of  one  of  the  four  armies. 

Looking  up  westwards,  we  find  Colonel  Murray  commanding  the 
Coi.  Murray  force  in  Guzerat,  amounting  to  about  7000  men.  He 
in  Guzerat.  was  reinforced  in  August  by  some  troops  from  Bombay, 
under  Lieutenant- Colonel  Woodington.  Wherever  these  forces 
were  distributed,  they  carried  all  before  them,  capturing  Scindia’s 
forts,  and  reducing  the  strongest  of  all  — Baroach,  near  the  mouth 
of  the  Nerbudda.  The  Guickwar,  who  appears  to  have  been 
passive  during  the  proceedings,  was  protected  in  his  dominion. 

1 Despatches,  ii.  p.  558.  2 Ibid.  p.  588. 


Chap.  VII.]  LAKE.  — BATTLE  OE  DELHI. 


155 


Baroach  was  taken  on  the  29th  of  August ; and  from  that  time 
the  Mahrattas  made  no  effectual  resistance  in  the  northwest. 
All  was  over  with  Scindia  there  before  the  battle  of  Assye  was 
fought. 

Turning  northwards,  we  find  the  British  forces  equally  success- 
ful in  Hindustan.  General  Lake  was  invested  with  Gen.  Lake  in 
the  same  full  authority  there  that  had  been  given  to  Hindustan. 
General  Wellesley  in  the  Deccan.  When  it  appeared,  in  August, 
that  there  was  to  be  no  truce  with  Scindia,  General  Lake  turned 
his  forces  against  the  French  state  formed  in  the  Douab,  and 
given  to  M.  Perron.  To  the  mortification  of  the  British  troops, 
the  French  hastily  retreated,  when  a battle  was  expected.  M. 
Perron  lost  reputation  irretrievably  by  this  move  ; and  the  French 
power  in  India  never  recovered  from  the  shock  of  the  disgrace. 
Coel  and  Alleghur  may  be  seen  to  the  southeast  of  Delhi.  It 
was  at  Coel  that  Perron  retreated,  leaving  General 
Lake  in  possession  of  the  place.  The  General  turned  Successes- 
at  once  to  the  strong  fortress  of  Alleghur,  which  was  taken  by 
storm,  under  the  command  of  Colonel  Monson,  on  the  morning 
of  the  4th  of  September.  Of  the  enemy  2000  were  left  dead. 
M.  Perron  had  lived  here  ; and  his  treasure  and  stores  were 
found.  The  Commandant  was  taken  prisoner  ; and,  three  days 
afterwards,  Perron  put  himself  and  his  family  under  British  pro- 
tection, complaining  bitterly  of  the  duplicity  and  treachery  with 
which  he  was  treated  on  every  hand.  lie  was  received  with 
kindness  and  honor,  and  conveyed,  as  he  desired,  to  Lucknow. 
On  the  11th,  Scindia’s  northern  army,  amounting  to  20,000  infan- 
try and  cavalry,  with  the  requisite  artillery,  were  found  to  have 
crossed  the  Jumna  in  the  night,  in  order  to  attack  the  British 
before  the)'  recovered  from  the  fatigues  of  a long  march.  The 
British  were  only  4500  ; and  of  these  very  few  were  really 
European.  They  had  marched  eighteen  miles,  while  the  enemy, 
fivefold  in  strength,  were  fresh  and  prepared ; and  the  Battle  of 
affair  was  so  sudden,  that  it  was  an  hour  before  the  in-  DelhL 
fantry  could  come  up  to  the  support  of  the  cavalry,  which  had  suf- 
fered grievously  meantime.  The  junction  was  effected  by  a pre- 
tended retreat  of  the  cavalry  — natural  enough  if  it  had  been  true. 
The  feint  served  the  double  purpose  of  effecting  the  junction  and 
of  drawing  the  enemy  out  of  a strong  position.  The  enemy  rushed 
on,  bringing  their  guns  with  them,  and  shouting  victory.  The  Brit- 
ish infantry  passed  through  the  cavalry,  which  immediately  formed 
behind  ; and  then,  the  whole  line  of  infantry  marched  on,  their  gen- 
eral at  their  head,  through  the  tremendous  fire  of  the  enemy,  and 
charged  with  bayonets,  after  firing  a volley  within  1 00  paces  of  the 
foe.  The  enemy  broke  and  fled : the  British  infantry  opened  their 
line,  to  let  the  cavalry  pass  through ; and  this  second  charge  com- 


156 


BATTLE  OF  LASWARREE. 


[Book  I 


pleted  the  business.  The  loss  of  the  enemy,  on  the  field  and  in 
the  river,  was  three  fourths  that  of  the  entire  British  force.  The 
whole  of  their  artillery,  and  much  ammunition  and  treasure,  were 
left  in  our  possession.  This  is  the  celebrated  battle  of  Delhi,  — 
so  called  because  the  minarets  of  Delhi  were  in  view  from  the 
field,  and  not  because  the  city  was  concerned  in  the  conflict. 
The  French  officers  in  command  surrendered  within  three  days ; 
and  on  the  fourth  day  after  the  battle,  General  Lake  went  to 
Restoration  at  Delhi,  the  deposed  sovereign,  Shah  Aulum, 

of  the  Mogul  whom  he  was  now  to  restore.  All  Delhi  presented  an 
sovereign.  impassable  crowd  of  happy  Mussulmans  on  this  occa- 
sion ; and  the  spectacle  of  the  old  descendant  of  Tamerlane  and 
Aurungzebe  was  all  the  more  affecting.  He  was  blind,  feeble,  of 
pauper  appearance,  and  seated  under  a tattered  canopy  — the  last 
relic  of  royalty  that  he  had  preserved  from  Scindia  and  the 
French.  He  was  now  emperor  again;  and  he  gave  the  sec- 
ond title  of  his  empire  to  General  Lake.  By  the  restoration  of 
the  Mogul  Emperor,  the  British  acquired  the  favor  of  the  whole 
Mohammedan  interest  in  India. — The  battles  of  Muttra  and 
Agra  followed,  — by  which  the  navigation  of  the  Jumna  was  se- 
cured, and  a vast  amount  of  treasure  and  stores  captured.  Then 
followed  an  extraordinary  march,  during  which  the  spirit  of  Gen- 
eral and  soldiers  seems  to  have  made  them  incapable  of  injury 
from  heat  and  fatigue.  The  object  was  great,  — to  overtake  and 
engage  the  residue  of  the  enemy’s  force  — amounting  to  a large 
army  — so  as  to  prevent  it  from  falling  upo.n  Delhi.  By  a series 
of  rapid  and  long  marches,  this  was  done  ; and  the  brilliant 
Battle  of  course  of  General  Lake’s  victories  was  closed  by  that 
Laswarree.  0f  Laswarree.  In  two  days  and  nights,  his  soldiers 
had  marched  65  miles  ; and  they  had  been  sixteen  hours  under 
arms  when  the  battle  began.  It  was  a hard  struggle,  and  a mur- 
derous one.  Throughout  this  great  Mahratta  war,  indeed,  we 
must  guard  ourselves  against  supposing  the  enemy  to  have  been 
contemptible,  because  they  were  everywhere  beaten.  The  Mah- 
rattas  had  bravery  and  military  genius ; and  they  were  aided 
by  the  military  science  of  France.  On  occasion  of  this  battle  of 
Laswarree,  their  guns  were  admirably  served,  and  it  was  hard 
for  the  victors  to  say  what  had  been  wanting  to  the  resources  of 
the  vanquished.  Yet  was  the  defeat  signal.  The  enemy  would 
not  give  way  till  they  had  lost  all  their  guns ; and  even  then, 
they  endeavored  to  retreat  in  good  order.  Two  thousand  of  them 
were  made  prisoners  ; and  it  appeared  as  if  almost  all  the  rest 
were  killed  or  wounded.  Everything  they  possessed  fell  into 
the  hands  of  the  British.  The  demolition  of  Scindia’s  power  in 
this  quarter  was  as  complete  as  elsewhere.  This  battle  took 
place  on  the  1st  of  November  ; after  Colonel  Stevenson  had 


Chap.  VII.] 


HARCOURT  IN  CUTTACK. 


157 


taken  Asseerghur,  and  while  General  Wellesley  was  following 
Seindia  to  and  fro,  before  the  battle  of  Argaum.1  In  this  battle 
occurred  one  of  those  incidents  which  let  us  more  into  the  charac- 
ter of  warrior  life  than  volumes  of  description  or  report-.  Gen- 
eral Lake’s  horse  was  shot  under  him  : his  son  offered  his  — 
pressed  his  father,  for  some  time  in  vain,  to  mount  it.  At  length 
he,  very  properly,  did  so,  and  the  son  mounted  that  of  a trooper 
at  hand.  At  the  very  moment,  the  young  man  was  struck  down 
by  a shot ; and  not  for  an  instant  could  his  father  stay  to  learn 
his  fate.  He  must  head  the  infantry  ; and  he  did  so,  without  a 
sign  of  faltering.  It  was  not  till  the  end  of  the  battle  that  he 
knew  that  his  son  was  likely  to  live.  His  name  stood  beside 
that  of  General  Wellesley,  in  all  the  records  of  the  Mahratta 
war ; and  his  deeds  in  Hindustan  fairly  rivalled  those  done  in  the 
Deccan.  The  citizens  of  Calcutta  presented  swords  to  him  and 
to  General  Wellesley  together ; and  when  the  British  Honorg 
parliament  voted  thanks  to  all  the  parties  concerned  in 
this  wonderful  war  in  India,2  the  King  created  General  Lake  a 
peer,  while  making  General  Wellesley  a Knight  of  the  Bath. 

We  have  still  to  look  to  the  eastern  region  of  the  war,  where 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Harcourt  was  trying  what  the  Lieut_Col 
British  arms  could  do  in  Cuttack.  It  was  of  eminent  Harcourt  in 
importance  to  secure  the  province  of  Cuttack,  or,  at  Cuttack' 
least,  to  keep  a way  open  through  it,  for  the  sake  of  free  com- 
munication between  Calcutta  and  the  governments  of  Madras  and 
Bombay;  and  Poonah,  and  Idydrabad,  and  General  Wellesley’s 
army.  The  French  fleet  was  now  riding  the  seas;  and  the  re- 
source of  uninterrupted  communication  by  land  was  most  desira- 
ble. This  was  achieved  — as  completely  and  well  as  every  other 
part  of  the  great  scheme.  A body  of  3000  men  set  forth  from 
Ganjam,  on  the  coast,  under  Colonel  Harcourt,  while  smaller  par- 
ties marched  to  meet  them  from  different  points,  or  kept  watch 
against  the  light  troops  of  Bhoonsla.  On  the  14th  of  September, 
the  city  of  Munickpatam  surrendered  to  Colonel  Harcourt,  and 
it  was  clear  that  Bhoonsla  would  be  punished  in  this  direction  as 
effectually  as  by  General  Wellesley  at  the  other  end  of  his  do- 
minions. On  the  18th  of  September,  a curious  acquisition  was 
made  by  the  British.  Towering  over  the  salt  sands  of  the  coast, 
and  visible  from  far  out  at  sea,  stands  the  Pagoda  of  Succes*es 
Juggernaut,  to  which  so  many  pilgrims  come  once  a 
year  as  to  create  a famine  along  their  route,  and  leave  the  bodies 
of  thousands  to  putrefy  by  the  wayside.  It  was  now  that  the 
British  became  answerable  for  that  which  has  since  caused  so 
much  concern  and  remonstrance,  — their  countenance  of  a cruol 
paganism ; for  now  the  priests  of  Juggernaut  came  to  entreat  the 
i Annual  Register,  1804,  p.  232.  2 Ibid.  p.  238. 


158 


RESULTS.  — TREATIES. 


[Book  I. 


British  to  take  them  and  their  temple  under  their  protection. 
Colonel  Harcourt  took  possession,  and  marched  on,  meeting 
now  with  little  further  opposition.  The  fortress  of  Barabuttee 
was  taken  on  the  14th  of  October;  and  then  the  whole  province 
of  Cuttack  was  in  British  possession.  The  coast  was  ours,  from 
the  Hooghly  to  Pondicherry  ; and  there  was  no  point  in  all  that 
line  where  the  French  could  land  without  meeting  a foe.  The 
interior  was  open  to  the  British  in  all  directions.  The  French 
officers  were  our  prisoners,  and  seeking  our  protection.  Their 
artillery  was  in  our  hands,  and  their  Indian  allies,  proteges  or 
employers,  were  suppliants  for  mercy  from  the  English  generals. 
Thus  did  the  “ brother  Arthur  ” begin  his  war  against  the  French  : 
that  war  which  he  was  to  conclude  at  Waterloo.  The  beginning 
had  the  same  character  of  comprehensiveness  and  decision  as  the 
end.  Our  forces  came  in  upon  theMahratta  princes  from  the  sea, 
the  mountains,  and  the  forests  — over  the  salt  sands  of  Cuttack, 
Results  of  and  the  high  plains  of  the  Deccan,  and  through  the 
campaign.  passes  of  the  Ghats,  and  over  the  rivers  of  Hindustan, 
and  out  of  the  rank  swamps  of  the  basin  of  the  Ganges.  They 
came  up  thus  at  one  moment,  leaving  no  gap  in  the  scheme,  mak- 
ing no  failure,  hemming  in  the  aggressors,  and  driving  them 
hither  and  thither,  like  the  wild  beasts  that  are  driven  in  by  the 
hunters.  When  the  final  humiliation  took  place,  the  victors 
looked  on  from  the  heights  of  the  Himalaya  and  from  the  south- 
ern Ghats  ; from  the  bastions  of  Baroach,  and  the  minarets  of 
Delhi,  and  the  pagoda  galleries  of  Juggernaut.  It  was  a pro- 
digious scheme  — that  of  the  Mahratta  war  — and  magnificently 
executed.  The  Subsidiary  System  of  Lord  Wellesley  received 
a sudden  and  vast  enlargement  ; for  all  this  was  done  in  a cam- 
paign of  five  months.  It  belongs  to  a future  time  to  review  the 
consequences  of  this  great  acquisition  of  territory  by  the  East 
India  Company,  and  their  methods  of  managing  the  new  and 
prodigious  vassalage  which  thus  suddenly  accrued  to  them.  It 
need  only  be  pointed  out  that  now,  on  the  acquisition  of  the 
province  of  Cuttack,  whose  low  shores  are  white  and  glistening 
Sait  modop-  with  salt,  began  the  monstrous  evil  of  the  salt  monop- 
oly*  oly,  which  caused  a formidable  rebellion  some  years 

afterwards,  and  is  yet  an  unsettled  affair.  The  time  was  coming 
when  the  inhabitants,  living  on  a vegetable  diet  which  renders 
salt  indispensable  to  the  preservation  of  health,  should  die  by 
hundreds  for  want  of  it,  while  it  was  caking  the  shore  for  miles 
before  their  eyes. 

The  humbled  Mahratta  potentates  signed  themselves  vassals, 
under  the  form  of  ratifying  their  treaties  of  peace  — Bhoonsla  on 
Treats  Christmas-day,  1803,  and  Scindia  a few  days  after. 

In  January  and  February  the  treaties  were  ratified  by 


Chap.  VIL] 


HOLKAR  INSURGENT. 


159 


the  Governor-General  in  Council ; and  proclamation  was  forth- 
with made  throughout  India,  of  peace  with  the  Mahratta  princes. 
The  rejoicings  were  profuse,  throughout  the  whole  of  India.  At 
Calcutta,  the  citizens  erected  a marble  statue  of  the  Governor- 
General,  and  conferred  honors  on  his  generals.  In  Europe,  it  was 
felt  that  much  had  been  done  for  our  national  reputation,  not  only 
by  the  splendid  conduct  of  the  war,  but  by  the  moderation  of  the 
terms  of  peace.  While  points  of  command  were  reserved  by  the 
Company,  and  such  territory  as  was  indispensable  to  the  security 
of  its  own  subjects,  the  Mahratta  chiefs  were  allowed  to  enjoy 
everything  else,  subject  only  to  conditions  which  would  prevent 
their  being  mischievous  again.  They  were  made  vassals,  and 
allowed  to  be  rich  in  possessions ; and  not  made  prisoners  or 
slaves,  dependent  for  life  and  food  on  their  conquerors.  Their 
days  of  rude  and  turbulent  independence  were  over  ; but  they 
did  not  fall  into  the  crushing  gripe  of  a Cromwell,  but  passed 
into  the  Subsidiary  System  of  a Wellesley.  By  Resolutions 
of  Parliament,  the  rulers  of  India  had  long  been  precluded  from 
making  conquests  in  India  for  the  sake  of  territorial  aggrandize- 
ment ; but  when  compelled,  as  now,  to  conquer  in  self-defence  — 
to  conduct  a war  with  France  on  Asiatic  soil  — it  could  not  have 
been  wondered  at  if  the  Mahratta  princes  had  been  more  severely 
treated. 

They  were  not  all  done  with  yet.  Holkar,  an  illegitimate  son, 
and  with  all  the  restlessness  and  suspicion  of  aspir-  Holkar  in- 
ants  under  that  disqualification — the  leader  of  troops  8urgent* 
whom  he  had  not  means  to  maintain  — was  still  dangerous,  be- 
cause he  must  always  be  unsatisfied.  He  must  sink  to  nothing,  or 
live  by  predatory  warfare  ; and  the  British  government  could  not 
allow  its  subjects  or  its  allies  to  be  annoyed  by  predatory  war- 
fare. There  was  then  no  ground  for  peace  between  this  freebooter 
and  the  government ; and  it  soon  appeared  that  the  task  remained 
of  subduing  him.  Much  of  the  Deccan  having  been  ravaged  by 
war,  he  was  even  in  more  want  than  usual ; and  in  the  spring  of 
1804,  he  was  actually  plundering  the  Jeynagur  territories,  in  prep- 
aration for  an  attack  on  the  rich  city  of  that  name,  which  was 
within  the  territories  of  our  ally,  the  Nizam.  At  the  same  time, 
he  was  tempting  Scindia  and  various  rajahs  to  join  him  in  arms 
against  the  British,  and  carry  on  a predatory  warfare,  in  which 
he  said  he  should  proceed,  whether  they  joined  him  or  not. 
Scindia’s  chief  minister  made  known  this  overture,  officially,  to 
the  British  government,  soon  after  the  conclusion  of  the  peace ; 
so  that,  in  preparing  to  curb  Holkar,  the  Governor-General  pro- 
ceeded on  sure  ground.  He  had  thus  far  been  merciful,  expressly 
forbidding  “ brother  Arthur,”  in  the  preceding  June,  to  urge 
hostilities  against  Holkar,  for  indemnity  for  plunder  perpetrated 


160 


NEW  CAMPAIGN. 


[Book  I. 


in  support  of  the  other  Mahratta  chiefs  ; but  now  there  must  be 
no  further  tampering  with  danger  from  the  freebooter.  The 
worst  of  any  outbreak  of  hostilities  in  India  is  that  there  is  no 
saying  where  the  matter  will  end.  One  discontented  potentate 
or  another  is  sure  to  join  in,  and  extend  the  quarrel,  and  protract 
the  conflict.  But  Holkar  was  already  tampering  with  so  many 
that  the  mischief  was  doing;  whether  covered  with  the  name  of 
peace  or  war.  The  Governor-General  resolved  to  try  whether 
he  could  not  make  it  the  interest  of  Holkar  to  keep  quiet  ; and 
thus  put  an  end  to  the  prevalent  apprehension  from  him,  and  to 
the  necessity  of  keeping  up  an  expensive  military  establishment 
for  the  sake  of  holding  him  in  check. 

Negotiation  was  begun  and  responded  to.  But,  during  the 
very  days  when  Holkar  was  promising  to  withdraw  his  troops 
within  his  own  dominions,  and  to  keep  them  at  safe  distance 
from  those  of  the  allies  of  the  British,  he  wrote  letters,  which 
were  intercepted  and  brought  to  the  Governor- General,  to  the 
allies  and  subjects  of  the  Company,  exciting  them  to  revolt,  and 
declaring  his  intention  to  send  a force  to  ravage  the  territories 
of  the  British.  He  was  informed  that  these  letters  had  been  in- 
tercepted, and  once  more  and  finally  invited  to  lay  aside  his  guilty 
schemes,  and  to  enter  into  a true  alliance  with  the  British 
government.  He  sent  ambassadors  to  propose  terms  so  extrava- 
gant, and  offered  in  a manner  so  offensive,  as  to  show  that  he  de- 
sired them  to  be  rejected.  On  their  rejection,  his  ambassadors 
intimated  that  they  were  ready  to  listen  to  offers  of  territory  and 
money,  and  to  report  them  to  Holkar ; but  that  his  troops  were 
not  to  be  withdrawn  within  his  own  dominions.  As  this  was  an 
indispensable  condition,  the  ambassadors  withdrew.  The  for- 
bearance of  the  Governor- General  still  afforded  room  for  further 
delay,  and  put  up  with  more  insolence  from  Holkar,  who  sent 
word  to  General  Wellesley  that  he  would  allow  him  no  time  to 
breathe,  but  would  come  presently  and  overwhelm  lacs  of  human 
beings  (hundreds  of  thousands)  with  his  army,  which  could 
sweep  and  destroy  like  the  waves  of  the  sea.  By  this  time,  it 
was  April ; and  it  was  necessary  to  begin  a new  campaign 
against  Holkar.  Lord  Lake  and  General  Wellesley  reduced 
him ; the  first  by  a series  of  rapid  marches,  by  which  he  brought 
Holkar  into  direct  engagements  in  spite  of  every  effort  of  the 
marauding  chief  to  pursue  a desultory  warfare  in  preference ; 
and  the  other,  by  taking  his  fortresses.  In  November,  two  great 
victories  seemed  to  have  crushed  the  foe.  General  Fraser  scat- 
tered his  forces,  and  took  all  his  guns  at  Deeg,  — himself,  how- 
ever, falling  in  the  action,  which  took  place  on  the  13  th  of  No- 
vember ; and  four  days  later,  Lord  Lake  surprised  and  utterly 
routed  the  whole  cavalry  of  Holkar,  under  his  own  command. 


Chap.  VII.]  WELLESLEY'S  ADMINISTRATION. 


161 


Holkar  barely  escaped,  stripped  of  everything ; but  here  inter- 
vened one  of  those  complications  which  are  the  peculiarity  of 
Indian  warfare  and  policy.  The  Rajah  of  Bhurtpoor,  one  of  the 
subsidiary  chiefs  who  had  been  the  most  liberally  dealt  with  by 
the  British  government,  now  avowed  an  alliance  with  Holkar, 
and  sustained  him  for  a while.  The  fate  of  both  was  assured 
beforehand  ; but  the  confederacy  protracted  the  war.  It  was  not 
till  the  close  of  1805,  when  another  Governor-General  had  taken 
the  place  of  Lord  Wellesley,  and  had  died  in  office,  and  when 
General  Wellesley  was  in  England,  that  peace  with  Holkar,  then 
a reduced  fugitive,  was  concluded. 

Party  spirit  ran  high  about  the  conduct  of  Indian  affairs  dur- 
ing the  closing  years  of  the  last  century,  and  the  be-  Wellesiey,s 
ginning  of  the  present.  The  funded  debt  of  the  Com-  administra- 
pany  had  largely  increased,  before  Lord  Wellesley  be-  tlonofIndla* 
came  Governor- General,  as  wTell  as  since ; and  it  remained  to  be 
proved  by  time  whether  Lord  Wellesley  had  increased  their  rev- 
enue — whether  he  had,  as  he  believed,  doubled  it  — by  conquest 
and  financial  arrangement.  Very  strong  evidence  was  also  requi- 
site to  satisfy  the  public  mind,  and  that  of  the  India  Directors, 
that  so  much  warfare  was  necessary  ; nothing  short  of  necessity 
making  it  justifiable.  The  majority  of  the  Directors  were  dis- 
contented with  Lord  Wellesley’s  administration  ; and  he  once  ac- 
tually resigned,  as  has  been  said ; and  consented  to  remain  in  of- 
fice only  at  the  earnest  request  of  Mr.  Pitt  and  Mr.  Addington. 
This  was  in  1802.  He  stipulated  to  remain  in  office  only  till  the 
beginning  of  1804  ; but  when  that  time  arrived,  the  negotiations 
for  the  Mahratta  peace  were  proceeding ; and  it  was  no  moment 
for  a change  of  government.  He  agreed  to  remain  another  year. 
Jn  March,  1805,  the  frigate  Fiorenzo  was  detained  in  the  Hooghly 
for  the  purpose  of  conveying  Lord  Wellesley  to  England  ; but 
despatches  from  home,  and  the  business  of  the  Bhurtpoor  Rajah, 
with  whom  peace  was  concluded  in  the  next  month,  still  detained 
him  for  a short  time.  At  home,  there  was  a great  impatience  to 
see  him ; and  his  successor  was  sent  out,  so  as  to  arrive  in  July. 
His  enemies  wanted  to  impeach  Lord  Wellesley;  and  his  friends 
wanted  to  hear  him  explain  himself  in  parliament : to  hear  his 
own  views  publicly  given  of  the  results  which  he  expected  from 
the  recent  wars,  and  to  know  whether  the  finances  of  the  Com- 
pany were  really  in  the  state  of  embarrassment  which  had  been 
represented. 

His  successor  was  Lord  Cornwallis  — now  infirm,  and  nearly 
worn  out ; but  as  unable  as  he  had  ever  shown  him-  Lord  Corn- 
self  to  prefer  his  private  ease  and  convenience  to  the  ^Jor-Gen 
public  welfare.  He  had  fought  in  the  Seven  Years’  erai. 

War ; he  had  gained  victories  in  America,  and  sustained  the 

VOL.  i.  11 


162 


CORNWALLIS  GOVERNOR-GENERAL.  [Book  I. 


grief  of  surrendering,  with  his  force,  to  the  Americans  and 
French,  after  holding  out  as  long  as  he  could.  He  had  never 
approved  the  American  war,  and  had  avowed  his  disapprobation 
at  the  peril  of  his  interests  ; but  he  did  not  suffer  the  less  keenly 
when  his  surrender  at  Yorktown  proved  the  death-blow  of  the 
English  power  in  America,  and  caused  a change  of  Ministry  and 
of  measures  at  home.  His  virtue,  however  — his  disinterested- 
ness and  prudence  — appear  to  have  been  so  unquestionable,  that 
he  did  not  suffer  politically,  or  in  personal  character,  for  this  mis- 
fortune; and  soon  after,  he  was  Governor- General  and  Com- 
mander-in-Chief  of  Bengal.  The  war  with  Tippoo  distinguished 
his  administration  ; and  we  see  him  the  host  of  Tippoo’s  two  sons, 
the  hostages  put  into  the  hands  of  this  kind-hearted  and  gener- 
ous nobleman.  When  the  Irish  rebellion  of  1798  broke  out, 
we  find  him  appealed  to  to  go  and  see  what  could  be  done ; and 
the  testimony  is  universal  as  to  his  benevolent  endeavors  to 
put  down  violence,  soften  rancor,  and  rectify  injustice  on  every 
hand.  We  have  seen  him  in  1801  at  Amiens,  negotiating  the 
peace  as  the  British  Plenipotentiary;  and  now,  in  1805,  in  the 
sixty-seventh  year  of  his  age,  we  follow  him  to  India,  where  he 
agreed  to  go  once  more,  on  the  assurance  that  he  was  the  only 
man  who  could  satisfy  all  the  parties  concerned  in  the  question 
of  the  conduct  of  Indian  affairs.  This  was  an  extraordinary  life 
of  service  and  dignity  to  have  been  lived  by  a man  whose  qual- 
ifications were  his  virtues  rather  than  his  talents.  Disinterested, 
moderate,  prudent,  brave,  and  benign,  he  commanded  confidence 
on  every  hand ; but  he  had  done  nothing  which  proved  him  to  be 
qualified  to  be  a rival  to  the  Wellesleys,  or  even,  perhaps,  to  be 
able  to  appreciate  their  policy  and  action.  When  he  arrived,  he 
showed  every  courtesy  to  the  man  he  came  to  supersede  — de- 
siring that  Lord  Wellesley  should  receive  the  parting  address  of 
regret  from  the  inhabitants  of  Calcutta  at  Government  House, 
immediately  before  his  own  levee ; but  he  found  much  to  disap- 
prove and  mourn  over  in  the  condition  of  affairs  : the  pay  of  the 
troops  in  arrear,  the  finances  deranged,  Holkar  yet  untamed,  and 
Scindia  becoming  troublesome  again.  Upon  the  representations 
which  he  made  in  due  course,  were  founded  exaggerated  charges 
against  Lord  Wellesley,  who  was  held  up  in  the  Court  of  Direc- 
tors, and  in  parliament,  as  a wanton  and  warlike  oppressor,  who 
exhausted  the  resources  of  the  country  he  was  sent  to  govern,  for 
the  sake  of  deluging  the  neighboring  states  in  blood.  Lord 
Wellesley  appealed  to  time  ; and  time  so  far  justified  him  as  that 
the  East  India  Company  paid  him  honors  in  his  old  age  ; voted 
him  20,000/.,  with  compliments  on  his  generosity  in  having  given 
up  to  the  army  that  conquered  Mysore  five  times  that  amount, 
which  he  might  have  takeq  as  his  share  of  the  spoils ; and  cireu- 


Chap.  VII.]  DEATH  OF  LORD  CORNWALLIS. 


163 


lated  largely  among  their  servants  in  India  the  Despatches  which 
he  published  in  1837,  as  the  best  repository  of  knowledge  and 
wisdom  on  Indian  affairs.  Lord  Wellesley’s  administration  was 
either  infamous  or  glorious : a scheme  which  was  irredeemably 
wrong  unless  it  was  eminently  right.  The  matured  opinion  of 
nearly  half  a century  seems  to  have  decided  in  its  favor  ; and  his 
government  in  India  is  now  looked  back  upon  as  not  only  — what 
no  voice  can  deny — a period  of  extraordinary  brilliancy,  but  as 
having  been  that  which  avowed,  though  it  did  not  originate,  the 
principle  that  must  be  the  basis  of  our  action  and  abode  there  : 
that  principle  which  was  instituted  before  he  was  born,  but  which 
he  was  the  first  to  recognize  clearly  and  completely,  and  to  em- 
body consistently  in  his  policy  of  his  Subsidiary  System. 

He  returned  to  England,  as  has  been  seen,  just  in  time  to  let 
Pitt  hear  his  voice  once  more.  Pitt  saw  him,  and  fainted  away 
under  the  sound  of  his  voice,  and  the  sight  of  his  face,  though  all 
agitating  subjects  were  avoided.  The  old  friends  little  imagined, 
at  the  moment,  that  Lord  Cornwallis  had  then  been  long  dead. 
Pitt  did  not  live  to  hear  the  news  that  Lord  Cornwal-  Death  of 
lis  had  died  on  the  5th  of  October  (1805)  in  Benares,  LordCom- 
on  his  way  to  take  the  command  of  the  army.1  To  the  wallls* 
British  nation,  it  appeared  that  the  governments  in  England  and 
India  lost  their  head  at  the  same  time,  and  were  left  helpless  and 
embarrassed.  Those  were  indeed  dark  days,  abroad  and  at 
home. 


1 Annual  Register,  1806,  p.  25i 


164 


MEETING  OF  PARLIAMENT. 


I Book  I. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  Amendment  to  the  Address,  intended  to  have  been  moved 
on  the  21st  of  January,  1806,  but  merely  read  in  both  Houses 
Meeting  of  of  Parliament,  declared  in  the  most  distinct  terms  that 
Parliament.  the  state  of  public  affairs  was  alarming  beyond  exam- 
ple.1 It  intimated  that  the  disasters  abroad  and  grounds  of  ap- 
prehension at  home  were  the  fault  of  administration,  and  pledged 
parliament  to  inquire  into  the  misconduct,  and  prevent  its  recur- 
rence. There  were  two  reasons  for  the  Amendment  not  being 
moved.  Lord  Sidmouth,  who  had  been  for  half  a year  openly  at 
variance  with  Mr.  Pitt,  and  who  commanded  forty  or  fifty  votes, 
had  let  it  be  understood  that  he  should  support  the  Amendment ; 
but  on  the  afternoon  of  Monday  the  20th,  he  or  his  party  let  the 
Whig  leaders  know  that  he  could  have  nothing  to  do  with  it. 
The  Prince  of  Wales  was  very  angry ; and  his  Whig  friends 
understood  this  as  a probable  indication  that  the  King  would 
form  the  strongest  Tory  ministry  that  he  could  get  together,  if 
Mr.  Pitt  should  really  be  dying.  They  looked  to  see  Lords 
Hawkesbury,  Sidmouth,  and  Castlereagh,  in  power  very  soon. 
Such  a prospect  made  their  amendment  of  more  importance  than 
ever  ; but  there  would  now  be  some  risk  in  pushing  the  matter 
to  a division.  It  would  have  been  ventured  upon,  however,  but 
that  it  became  known  in  the  course  of  the  day  that  Mr.  Pitt  was 
actually  dying.  When  the  Whig  leaders  met  at  Mr.  Fox’s  in 
the  afternoon,2  he  told  them  that  if  others  could  enter  into  a dis- 
cussion of  Mr.  Pitt’s  policy  at  such  a moment,  he  could  not. 
“ Mentem  mortalia  tangunt,”  he  said,  in  strong  emotion.  Yet  it 
was  a crisis  when  a suppression  of  opinion  would  have  been  a 
crime.  Therefore  was  the  Amendment  simply  read  — by  Lord 
Cowper  in  the  one  house,  and  Lord  Henry  Petty  in  the  other. 

There  was  something  exasperating  to  those  who  understood  the 
The  King’s  facts  case  ln  knowledge  that  the  calam- 

disiike  of  ities,  actual  and  apprehended,  of  the  state  were  ow- 

Mr.  Fox.  ing  to  the  King’s  horror  of  Mr.  Fox — of  whom  he 

really  knew  little  or  nothing.  He  imagined  him  to  be  a fierce 
levelling  republican,  who,  after  quarrelling  with  the  loyal  Burke, 

1 Hansard,  vi.  p.  18.  2 Memoirs  of  Horner,  i.  p.  328, 


Chap.  VIII.]  ALARMING  STATE  OF  AFFAIRS. 


165 


and  having  held  conversations  with  Napoleon  at  Paris,  was  now 
only  waiting  to  overthrow  the  British  Constitution,  and  trample 
the  monarch  in  the  dust.  He  knew  that  Mr.  Pitt  esteemed  Fox, 
and  would  gladly  have  joined  him  in  the  government  of  the 
country.  He  suspected  that  Pitt  would  never  relinquish  the  ob- 
ject of  bringing  the  King  and  Mr.  Fox  face  to  face,  because  Pitt 
could  not  rule  the  country  without  the  Grenvilles  ; and  Lord 
Grenville  would  not  come  in  without  Mr.  Fox.  It  was  a point, 
however,  on  which  the  King’s  obstinate  mind  had  been  fixed,  up 
to  the  present  time  ; and  the  consequences  had  been  those  which 
were  now  making  all  hearts  quake  for  fear.  The  for-  Alarming 
eign  alliance  which  was  just  broken  up  disastrously  state  of  af- 
would  never  have  been  formed,  if  Lord  Grenville  had  fairs‘ 
been  in  the  ministry.  Austria  had  never  been  ready  and  willing 
for  war,  as  Mr.  Pitt’s  sanguine  mind  had  concluded  that  she  was : 
she  had  made  no  effectual  resistance  to  the  French  ; and  now  she 
was  so  humbled,  that  if  she  wished  it  ever  so  much,  she  could  re- 
sist no  more.  Russia  had  suffered  both  defeat  from  Napoleon 
and  desertion  by  Austria,  and  had  drawn  her  armies  home.  Prus- 
sia had  held  aloof,  to  see  which  way  the  luck  would  go.  Spain  and 
Holland  were  mere  vassals  of  France.  There  was  nothing  now 
for  Napoleon  to  fear  on  the  Continent  ; and  no  great  deal  for  him 
to  do.  He  was  at  liberty  to  “ crush  England,”  as  he  was  in  the 
habit  of  saying.  England  did  not  mean  to  be  crushed,  of  course  ; 
but  her  position  was  very  unfavorable  for  such  a struggle  as  seemed 
to  be  impending.  The  Catholics  were  so  deeply  discontented  at 
the  issue  of  the  late  discussion  of  their  claims,  that  no  sober  poli- 
tician would  answer  for  the  loyalty  of  Ireland.  The  Treasury 
was  empty  ; and  the  nation  was  in  that  state  of  depression  of  spirits 
which  makes  it  particularly  difficult  to  raise  money.  What  the 
administration  of  naval  affairs  had  been,  Lord  Melville’s  case  had 
shown ; and  there  was  no  confidence  that  military  affairs  were 
going  on  much  better  under  the  King’s  pet  son,  the  Duke  of 
York.  The  political  rivalship  between  the  King  and  the  Prince 
of  Wales  was  at  its  height.  The  Prince  gloried  indecently  in 
his  father’s  difficulties ; and  it  seemed  impossible  to  hope  that 
the  King  would  take  for  his  ministers  the  men  who  were  the 
Prince’s  advisers  and  daily  companions  — the  friends  of  the 
Catholic  Mrs.  Fitzherbert,  and  the  pledged  advocates  of  the  Cath- 
olic body.  The  poor  old  man  was  now  nearly  blind  — too  nearly 
blind  to  open  the  session  in  person.  He  was  feeble  and  infirm  ; 
and  the  Catholic  question  was  no  longer  a matter  of  reasoning 
with  him,  but  one  of  nerves.  The  Amendment  to  the  Address 
might  well  say,  “ This  House  is  perfectly  sensible  that  the 
alarming  and  unexampled  state  of  public  affairs  renders  the  most 
vigorous  exertions  necessary  for  the  preservation  of  the  empire.” 


166 


NEGOTIATIONS  FOR  A MINISTRY. 


[BookI. 


On  the  day  of  Mr.  Pitt’s  death,  the  Duke  of  York,  usually 
bland  and  cheerful,  lost  his  temper,  was  peevish  and  angry. 
This  was  because  Mr.  Pitt’s  stanch  friend,  who  had  caballed 
for  him  more  than  any  other  man  but  Canning,  Lord  Malmes- 
bury, thought  and  said  that  there  must  be  a change  of  ministry. 
The  Duke  would  not  hear  of  it; 1 so  Lord  Malmesbury  sent  him 
his  reasons  in  writing,  — reasons  for  being  sure  that  if  Mr.  Pitt 
had  been  alive  and  well,  the  ministry  could  not  have  stood  — 
feeble  in  itself,  and  oppressed  with  failure  in  every  direction  but 
on  the  sea  ; reasons  which,  therefore,  left  no  doubt  that  now,  with 
Mr.  Pitt  lying  dead,  nothing  could  be  done  but  to  form  a new 
cabinet.  Still,  the  image  of  his  brother  triumphing,  and  his 
brother’s  advisers  coming  in  from  their  condition  of  exclusion, 
was  too  much  for  the  pet  son  of  the  King ; and  he  was  cool  tow- 
ards Lord  Malmesbury  till  he  saw  that  everybody  about  him, 
even  the  King,  was  of  opinion  that  there  must  be  a new  adminis- 
tration. Then,  he  gave  way  with  a good  grace,  and  acknowl- 
edged the  mistake  he  had  fallen  into. 

The  first  application  known  to  have  been  made  was  to  Lord 
Negotiations  Wellesley.  This  was  somewhat  daring  ; considering 
for°a  min-  that  accusations  were  abroad  against  him,  and  that  an 
lstry*  impeachment  was  threatened,  on  account  of  his  Indian 

policy.  The  remnant  of  the  Pitt  Cabinet  invited  Lord  Welles- 
ley — of  course,  with  the  King’s  approbation  — to  undertake  the 
conduct  of  affairs.2  He  immediately  refused,  and  made  his  re- 
fusal known  to  the  Prince,  who  eulogized  the  act  to  Mr.  Fox  as 
one  of  high  generosity,  while  others  thought  it  might  be  either 
that,  or  a measure  of  deep  prudence.  The  next  resorted  to  was 
Lord  Hawkesbury ; of  whom  the  King  had  once  said,  that  he 
had  “ no  head.”  There  could  not  be  a stronger  proof  of  the  des- 
peration to  which  the  royal  policy  was  reduced.  Lord  Hawkes- 
bury took  time  to  consult  with  his  friends  ; from  whom  he  re- 
ceived such  information  of  the  public  determination  to  secure  an 
union  of  parties  and  coalition  of  leaders  as  should  make  a strong 
government,  that  he  could  not  venture  on  office  supported  only  by 
royal  favor  and  the  aid  of  Mr.  Pitt’s  subalterns.  He  declined  ; 8 
and  he  would  have  stood  higher  in  men’s  opinions  than  ever  be- 
fore, if  he  had  not  spoiled  the  act  by  appropriating  to  himself  the 
lucrative  office  of  Warden  of  the  Cinque  Ports  — thus  making  a 
profit  of  the  incident  — and  by  having  made  use  of  his  position 
to  get  the  necessary  forms  gone  through  with  an  expedition  far 
from  decorous. 

Of  all  the  difficulties  which  stood  in  the  way  of  an  application 
to  the  Whigs,  the  greatest  was  the  King’s  notion  of  the  extent 

1 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  356.  2 Horner’s  Memoirs,  i.  p.  332. 

8 Annual  Register,  1806,  p.  20. 


Chap.  VIII.] 


ALL  THE  TALENTS. 


167 


of  his  prerogative.  He  considered  it  his  right  — and  he  had  al- 
ways so  considered  it  — to  appoint  to  office  the  men  he  liked, 
without  control  or  interference  from  any  quarter  whatever.  If 
told  that  the  public  welfare  required  the  appointment  of  a Cabinet 
composed  of  such  and  such  materials,  he  resisted  the  suggestion, 
spying  that  to  accede  to  it  would  be  to  give  Opposition  an  indi- 
rect control  over  appointments  which  it  was  his  sole  right  to 
make.  He  owed  it  to  his  posterity,  he  was  wont  to  say,  to  keep 
this  kingly  power  intact ; and  sooner  than  surrender  it,  he  would 
give  up  his  crown.  When,  in  March,  1778,  it  was  proposed  to 
him  by  his  Minister  to  admit  the  Whigs,  he  declared,  three  times 
in  four  days,  that  he  would  abdicate,  saying,  that  if  the  people 
would  not  support  his  prerogative  of  choosing  his  ministers  ac- 
cording to  his  own  views,  they  should  have  another  king.1  Four 
years  afterwards,  he  repeated  the  threat,  when  the  division 
against  Lord  North  exposed  him  again  to  be  “trampled  upon  by 
his  enemies,”  as  he  was  accustomed  to  say.  We  hear  of  no  such 
threat  now ; but  he  yielded  only  when  he  found  that  there  were 
really  no  men  of  his  own  way  of  thinking  of  whom  a Cabinet 
could,  at  this  time,  be  made.  If  he  could  not  have  one  after  his 
own  liking,  the  next  best  thing  was  to  have  one  which  should 
unite  parties,  and  secure  the  cooperation  of  their  best  men.  This 
would  bring  in  some  of  his  own  way  of  thinking,  with  whom  he 
could  enjoy  official  intercourse.  Such  an  union  happened  to  be 
exactly  what  the  country  wished  for ; and  the  Administration 
commonly  called  “ All  the  Talents  ” was  formed  with  little  diffi- 
culty or  delay. 

On  the  27th  of  January,  Lord  Grenville  had  an  interview, 
by  appointment,  with  the  King.  He  was  requested  “Aiithe 
to  form  a government ; and  they  agreed  that  it  must  Talents.” 
be  of  a comprehensive  character.2  Then  came  the  word  of  proof. 
Lord  Grenville  said  he  must  avow  that  the  man  he  should  con- 
sult would  be  Mr.  Fox.  “ I thought  so ; and  I meant  it  so,”  was 
the  reply  ; and  the  words  flew  all  over  the  kingdom  as  fast  as  hu- 
man tongues  could  send  them.  The  Prince’s  behavior  was  al- 
most enough  to  make  the  King  take  back  the  words.  He  openly 
gloried  in  the  humiliation  of  his  father,  took  on  himself  the  air 
of  a party  leader,  and  pressed  his  friends  for  office  and  place  for 
his  dependents.  One  consolation  for  the  King  was  from  the  sug- 
gestion that  the  Whigs  would  be  most  effectually  foiled  by  giv- 
ing them  power.  The  popular  expectation  from  them  was 
greater  than  any  men  could  fulfil ; and  they  were  hampered  by 
declarations  easily  made  in  opposition,  but  very  hardly  redeemed 
as  pledges  by  men  encompassed  by  the  perplexities  of  office.  The 
Whig  portion  of  the  new  Cabinet  would,  certainly  and  soon,  dis- 
1 Lord  Brougham’s  Statesmen,  i.  Geo.  III.  2 Annual  Register,  1806,  p.  21 


168 


THE  CATHOLIC  QUESTION. 


[Book  I. 


appoint  the  people.  As  a beginning,  Mr.  Fox  would  disappoint 
The  Catholic  the  Catholics.  It  was  understood  everywhere,  and 
question.  Mr.  Fox  ma(ie  the  avowal  openly  in  conversation,1 
that  he  did  not  intend  to  harass  the  King  about  the  Catholic 
question  at  all.  He  knew  that  it  would  be  useless  ; 2 and  he  ad- 
vised the  Catholic  leaders  to  wait  awhile  — not  to  petition  again 
the  Parliament  which  had  just  rejected  their  claims  — not  to 
injure  their  cause  by  pushing  it  forward  at  a moment  of  griev- 
ous public  alarm  and  perplexity.  If,  however,  they  differed 
from  him  about  their  course,  and  chose  to  renew  their  claim, 
he  should  be  always  found  on  their  side,  as  hitherto,  and  say 
what  he  thought  of  the  virtue  of  their  cause.  Many  of  the 
Catholic  leaders  acquiesced  in  this  ; but  the  enemies  of  Mr.  Fox 
were  right  in  concluding  that  many  would  not.  To  this  day, 
his  reputation  is  injured,  in  some  quarters,  by  the  imputation  that 
he  neglected  the  Catholic  cause  when  power  opened  to  him  ; 
while  others  think  him  fully  justified  in  attempting  the  great  ob- 
ject of  peace  with  France — to  say  nothing  of  other  aims  — 
though  compelled  to  sever  these  aims  from  that  of  Catholic 
Emancipation.  If,  as  such  differences  seem  to  show,  it  was  a 
case  of  difficult  decision,  the  successive  Ministers  who  agreed  to 
spare  the  King’s  feelings  and  the  King’s  brain  on  this  subject 
are  entitled  to  a candid  judgment;  and  most  people,  probably, 
now  think  that  Mr.  Fox,  seeing  that  he  could  do  the  Catholics 
no  good  beyond  the  expression  of  his  opinion,  would  have  been 
wrong  to  decline,  on  their  account,  a possible  opportunity  of  re- 
storing peace  with  France,  and  promoting  prosperity  at  home. 
Meantime,  he  was  disappointing  the  Catholics,  as  he  and  his  com- 
rades were  pretty  sure  to  disappoint  some  other  classes  of  ex- 
pectants. 

The  King’s  friends  saw  further  consolation  for  him  in  the  ad- 
Lord  Sid-  mission  into  the  Cabinet  of  his  favorite  old  minister, 

mouth.  Lord  Sidmouth.  This  was  a consolation,  however, 

which  failed  in  practice.  The  King  seems  to  have  grown  very 
tired  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  some  time  before  this  date.  The  obse- 
quiousness and  flattery,  and  pious  sentiment,  which  had  once  so 
pleased  the  sovereign,  could  not  always  compensate  for  the  com- 
placent selfishness  and  garrulous  vanity  which  made  the  weak 
man  forget  good  manners,  when  his  head  was  full  of  himself. 
In  the  preceding  summer,  when  Lord  Sidmouth  resigned,  he 
tried  to  return  the  key  of  the  Council-box  to  the  King,  instead 
of  to  Lord  Hawkesbury,  because  he  and  Lord  Hawkesbury  were 
not  on  speaking  terms.3  When  the  King  intimated  that  he  had 
nothing  to  do  with  such  quarrels,  and  would  have  ended  the 

1 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  ii.  p.  436.  2 Annual  Register,  1806,  p.  25. 

8 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  346. 


Chap.  VIII.] 


LORD  SIDMOUTH. 


169 


audience,  Lord  Sidmouth  detained  him  for  an  hour,  compelling 
him  to  listen  to  his  story,  and  so  fatiguing  him  that  the  King 
told  his  family  he  had  been  plagued  to  death.  Lord  Sidmouth 
was  not  likely  to  regain  his  ground  by  becoming  the  colleague  of 
Mr.  Fox  ; and  he  had  therefore  no  more  such  sentimental  notes, 
and  tender  interviews,  and  royal  presents,  as  had  made  him 
happy  during  his  former  term  of  office.  Though  called,  as  his 
biographer  declares,  “ the  King’s  friend  ” 1 in  the  Cabinet,  not 
one  letter  passed,  and  very  few  interviews,  during  his  whole 
term  of  office.  Lord  Grenville  and  the  Whigs  need  not  have 
feared  to  give  their  new  colleague  any  place  which  might  afford 
him  access  to  the  King’s  ear ; for  the  royal  ear  was  not  favorably 
inclined.  In  August  following,  Lord  Sidmouth  himself  wrote : 2 
“ Previous  to  the  Council,  I had  a long  audience,  the  effect  of 
which  has  been  to  relieve  my  own  mind,  and,  I am  willing  to 
believe,  that  of  the  King.  Misconceptions  have  been  done 
away.”  Before  this  time,  the  King  had  grown  into  a great  lik- 
ing for  Mr.  Fox.  He  not  only  testified,  on  all  occasions,  to  the 
good  faith  and  good  manners  which  he  found  in  Mr.  Fox,  but 
fairly  fell,  like  everybody  else,  under  the  influence  of  his  ex- 
traordinary fascination.  If  this  had  but  happened  a few  years 
sooner,  what  disaster  and  misery  might  have  been  spared  ! 

It  was  necessary  to  have  Lord  Sidmouth  in  the  Cabinet,  though 
nobody  particularly  desired  it.  It  was  not  on  account  of  his  per- 
sonal qualities  that  he  was  sought ; but  on  account  of  that  “ very 
numerous  appearance  of  his  friends,”  3 of  which  he  wrote  with 
complacency  (though  in  a mistake)  as  the  cause  of  the  relin- 
quishment of  the  Amendment.  He  commanded  votes  enough  in 
Parliament  to  be  able  to  turn  the  balance  in  a time  of  difficulty. 
Lord  Grenville’s  government  would  unite  the  Old  and  New  Op- 
position, as  they  were  called:  Mr.  Fox  being  the  head  of  the 
Old,  which  had  opposed  the  war,  and  advocated  broad  popular 
liberties,  and  appealed  to  broad  popular  sympathies ; and  Lord 
Grenville  being  the  leader  of  the  New,  which,  though  Whig  in 
its  principles,  had  supported  the  war  as  a painful  necessity,  and 
discountenanced  any  present  extension  of  popular  liberties. 
These  two  parties  were  secured  ; but  they  had  together  only 
about  150  votes  in  the  Commons;  and  the  new  Administration 
must  have  more  than  this,  considering  the  terms  they  were  on 
with  the  Court.  Some  third  party  must  be  induced  to  join  ; and 
the  choice  was  between  Lord  Sidmouth,  with  his  compact  body 
of  adherents,  and  the  scattered  and  perplexed  Pittites.  Lord 
Sidmouth  had  helped  the  exposure  of  Lord  Melville ; he  was 
acceptable  to  the  Prince,  and,  as  was  supposed,  to  the  King  also ; 
he  was  not  answerable  for  the  recent  continental  alliance  ; he  was 
1 Life,  ii.  p.  433.  v Ibid.  3 ibid.  p.  407. 


170 


LORD  ELLENBOROUGH. 


[Book  I 


not  warlike  or  extravagant ; his  underlings  were  cleverer  than 
those  of  the  Pitt  party.  For  these  reasons  and  some  others,  Lord 
Sidmouth  was  considered  the  least  undesirable  of  the  leaders  of 
whom  one  must  be  invited  into  the  Coalition  ; and  thus,  though 
without  talents,  he  became  one  of  the  Ministry  of  “ All  the  Tal- 
ents/’ The  Prince  sent  Mr.  Sheridan  to  him  on  the  23d  of 
January ; and,  after  some  complacent  discussions  about  his  con- 
science and  private  feelings  — such  as  he  was  forever  making 
public  — he  accepted  office,  as  everybody  knew  throughout  that 
lie  would.  Though  indispensable,  his  junction  proved  highly 
detrimental  to  the  Grenville  Administration.  It  was  the  occa- 
sion of  a false  step  which  proved  most  injurious  to  the  new  Cab- 
inet. Lord  Sidmouth,  even  if  he  had  been,  as  he  was  supposed, 
“ the  King’s  friend,”  could  not  have  sat  alone  in  the  Cabinet 
with  ten  men,  of  whom  he  had  hitherto  been  the  opponent.  He 
endeavored,  he  was  wont  to  say,  to  be  as  moderate  as  he  could  in 
his  demands  for  his  friends  ; but  he  must  have  one  supporter  in 
the  Cabinet.1  He  proposed  Lord  Buckinghamshire : but  it  was 
objected  that  some  men  of  greater  mark  among  the  Whigs  were 
to  be  left  on  one  side  ; and  he  was  invited  to  choose  again.  He 
Lord  Ellen-  named  Lord  Ellenborough,  then  Lord  Chief  Justice  ; 
borough.  and  unhappily  the  request  was  agreed  to,  and  a high 
judical  functionary  was  inducted  into  a political  seat.  The  new 
ministers  here  afforded  a grand  theme  to  their  opponents ; and 
their  opponents  took  care  that  they  should  never  hear  the  last 
of  it.  Mr.  Canning,  then  in  his  worst  mood  of  vindictiveness, 
persecuted  Mr.  Fox,  the  whole  session  through,  too  much  as  he 
himself  was,  at  a future  day,  to  be  persecuted,  under  circum- 
stances mournfully  similar.  Few  will  now  doubt  that  he  had 
the  right  of  the  doctrine,  and  Mr.  Fox  the  superiority  of  temper. 
It  is  admitted  now  that  to  keep  separate  the  judicial  and  political 
functions  is  a primary  principle  of  good  government  — as  it  once 
was  the  most  decisive  feature  of  political  progress  ; and  Mr.  Fox's 
argument,2  that  a cabinet  is  not  an  institution,  not  an  arrange- 
ment in  any  way  known  to  the  law,  is  not  found  to  stand  as  a 
sufficient  defence  before  the  mischief  and  peril  of  impairing  the 
judicial  function  ; but  every  one’s  sympathies  turn  from  the  pet- 
ulant young  debater  to  the  composed  and  benign  Minister, 
when  the  charm  of  his  temper  appears  amidst  provocation. 
When  Canning  was  ironically  commenting  on  the  title  of  “ All 
the  Talents,”  Mr.  Fox  repudiated  the  title,  and  observed  that  it 
was  impossible  that  the  Ministry3  could  have  arrogated  it  to 
themselves  while  they  saw  Canning  himself  on  the  other  side 
of  the  House. 

The  two  chiefs  of  the  new  Administration  disappointed  the  ex- 
1 Life,  ii.  p.  418.  2 Hansard,  vi.  p.  309.  3 Ibid.  p.  466. 


Chap.  VIII.] 


LORD  GRENVILLE. 


171 


pectations  of  their  enemies  by  working  well  together.  Mr.  Fox 
had  committed  himself  against  the  Wellesley  policy  in  India,  and 
had  associated  himself  on  that  question  with  Lord  Wellesley’s 
enemies,  Sir  Philip  Francis  and  Mr.  Pauli.  Lord  Grenville 
took  the  opposite  view,  and  was  a great  champion  of  Lord  Wel- 
lesley. This  was  not  a difference  m hich  need  prevent  their  acting 
together;  and  they  settled  it  by  agreeing  that  the  accusation  of 
Lord  Wellesley  was  in  no  manner  to  be  made  a government 
question,  while  Mr.  Fox  reserved  full  liberty  to  speak  and  act  as 
he  should  think  proper,  if  the  affair  should  be  brought  forward 
by  others.  When  the  people  talked  of  the  new  Ministry,  and 
the  return  of  the  Whigs  to  power,  they  were  thinking  of  Mr. 
Fox.  Perhaps  he  was,  in  all  eyes,  the  true  leader  of  the  Cabi- 
net. Yet  Lord  Grenville  had  qualities  which  perfectly  LordGren- 
fitted  him  for  the  post  of  leader.  He  had  the  knowl-  Tille* 
edge  of  affairs  and  the  habits  of  business  in  which  his  coadjutors 
were  deficient ; for  he  had  not,  like  them,  been  long  in  Opposi- 
tion, and  excluded  from  the  sphere  of  political  business.  He 
was  a kinsman  and  friend  of  Mr.  Pitt,  and  had  been  his  steady 
supporter  till  his  return  to  power  in  1804.  We  have  seen  some- 
thing of  Mr.  Pitt’s  suffering  under  the  retreat  of  “ that  proud 
man,”  as  he  called  Lord  Grenville,  to  a new  position  among  the 
Whigs.  The  benefit  to  the  Whigs  of  this  accession  was  very 
great.  Lord  Grenville  had  that  thorough  respectability  of  life 
in  which  some  of  the  Whig  leaders  were  sadly  deficient.  He 
had  an  extent  of  knowledge  which  justified  the  extreme  strength 
of  his  convictions  ; he  had  a power  of  will  which,  though  amount- 
ing occasionally  to  obstinacy,  was  of  eminent  service  in  the  posi- 
tion which  he  held  in  such  times.  His  well-grounded  self-confi- 
dence set  free  all  his  energies,  for  action ; and  his  industry  was  in 
proportion  to  his  confidence.  He  was  a wise  friend  of  the  Irish 
nation,  and  a really  heroic  advocate  of  the  Catholic  claims  ; for 
to  his  steadiness  on  this  question  he  sacrificed  power  for  many 
years  of  his  life.  He  was,  at  the  same  time,  so  unquestionable  a 
churchman,  so  opposed,  as  he  proved  when  Chancellor  of  Ox- 
ford University,  to  all  church  reform,  that  the  King’s  mind  might 
be  quite  easy  about  the  preservation  of  Protestantism  while  Lord 
Grenville  was  Minister.  These  were  qualifications  which  fitted 
him  for  the  post  of  leader ; while  his  united  honesty  and  pru- 
dence, his  sense  and  learning,  his  experience  and  political  philos- 
ophy, offered  a broad  basis  of  reliance  for  his  colleagues  and  the 
country. 

If  such  a man  and  minister  as  this  was  almost  overlooked  in 
the  presence  of  Fox,  what  must  Fox  have  been  ? As  Mr  Fox 
unlike  Lord  Grenville  as  one  man  could  well  be  to 
another.  He  had  not  the  private  respectability  which  is  so  dear 


172 


CHARACTER  OF  FOX. 


[Book  I. 


to  the  English  people.  Under  unfavorable  circumstances  in  early 
life,  he  became  a gamester,  and  remained  so  for  two  thirds  of  his 
life.  By  a vigorous  effort,  he  wrenched  himself  from  the  fas- 
cinations of  play,  when  his  friends  arranged  his  affairs  ; but  his 
vices  could  not  but  tell  upon  his  intellect  and  his  conscience,  im- 
pairing the  value  of  his  life  while  shortening  its  duration.  He 
had  not  Lord  Grenville’s  immutable  steadiness  ; nor  his  personal 
dignity ; nor  his  vigilant  prudence ; nor  his  marvellous  industry  ; 
nor  his  political  and  social  science.  While  Lord  Grenville  was 
perhaps  the  most  finished  political  economist  of  his  time,  Fox 
owned  that  he  could  not  read  Adam  Smith,  or  fix  his  mind  on 
speculations  of  that  order.  He  had  no  conception,  either,  of  the 
scope  and  importance  of  natural  science,  or  of  mental  philosophy  ; 
and  he  could  not,  like  Lord  Grenville  and  most  men  of  enlarged 
knowledge,  respect  the  science  and  philosophy  which  he  did  not 
possess.  These  deficiencies  led  him  into  mischief,  in  public  and 
in  private  : caused  him  disgrace  and  misery  in  his  personal  posi- 
tion, and  made  him  unsteady  and  disappointing  on  some  im- 
portant points  when  he  was  in  possession  of  power.  What  was 
it,  then,  that  made  him  tower  above  his  party  and  his  colleagues, 
so  that  all  men’s  eyes  were  fixed  on  him,  and  hearts  by  thousands 
which  forgot  all  about  respectability  and  prudence  and  consis- 
tency ? He  had  a heart ; — such  a heart ! And  he  had  an  im- 
agination worthy  to  act  with  that  heart ; and  a logical  faculty 
such  as  is  found  only  with  the  highest  order  of  heart  and  imagi- 
nation. Though  he  had  not  Lord  Grenville’s  knowledge,  it  does 
not  follow  that  he  was  ignorant.  Though  he  could  not  attend  to 
political  economy,  he  was  engrossed  by  history ; so  deeply  inter- 
ested in  it,  that  he  drew  from  it  more  philosophy  than  he  was 
himself  aware  of.  His  classical  accomplishments  were  of  a high 
order,  and  to  them  he  owed  much  of  the  beauty  of  his  indescrib- 
able oratory.  Of  that  oratory  it  is  best  to  say  nothing  — so  im- 
possible is  it  to  convey  any  sense  of  its  power.  The  best  of  the 
whole  man  was  poured  out  into  it  — his  passionate  love  of  liberty 
— his  hatred  of  tyrants  — his  scorn  of  hypocrites  — his  homage 
to  rectitude  — h:s  compassion  to  the  suffering  — his  recognitions 
of  the  past  — his  intuition  of  the  soul  of  the  present  — his  pre- 
vision of  the  future  — and  all  the  nobleness,  generosity,  and  sweet- 
ness of  the  noblest,  most  generous  and  sweetest  temper  that  ever 
graced  a lofty  genius  — all  this,  poured  out  in  floods,  now  like 
sunlight,  and  now  like  volcanic  fire,  can  hardly  be  conveyed  to 
the  imagination  of  the  present  generation,  deeply  as  it  moved  the 
hearts  of  the  last.  He  had  powers  which  singularly  compensated 
for  his  deficiencies.  He  could  learn  in  a moment  almost  what- 
ever he  pleased ; and  when  in  the  very  depths  of  some  unworthy 
passion,  he  could  leap  out  of  it  upon  higher  and  safer  ground. 


Chap.  VIII.]  GROUNDS  OF  EXPECTATION. 


17. 


As  an  instance  of  this  kind  of  versatility  — he  one  night  gamed 
so  desperately  at  his  club  as  to  be  plunged  in  despair  at  his  losses. 
His  face  and  manner  so  alarmed  his  friends,  when  he  rushed 
from  the  house,  that  they  apprehended  suicide.  They  followed 
him  closely,  knocked  at  his  door  almost  as  soon  as  it  had  ad- 
mitted him,  and  walked  straight  into  the  library.  There  they 
found  him  on  his  back  on  the  hearth-rug,  reading  Herodotus,  and 
to  all  appearance  perfectly  happy.  As  for  his  quickness  in 
gaining  knowledge,  Dr.  Abraham  Rees,  the  Dissenting  Minister, 
used  to  tell  an  anecdote  which  well  exhibits  it.  Dr.  Rees  and  a 
deputation  went  up  to  Mr.  Fox,  to  engage  his  interest  for  the  re- 
peal of  the  Test  and  Corporation  Acts.  Though  stanch  in  the 
principles  of  religious  liberty,  he  did  not  pretend  to  know  any- 
thing of  the  points  of  this  particular  case.  He  looked  his  visitors 
“through  and  through ” while  they  spoke,  asked  four  or  five 
admirable  questions,  and  dismissed  them,  after  a very  short  au- 
dience. As  they  went  up  St.  James’s  Street,  he  passed  them, 
booted  for  his  ride ; and  he  entered  the  House,  riding- whip  in 
hand,  as  soon  as  he  returned.  Dr.  Rees  and  his  friends  were  in 
the  gallery  ; and  to  their  great  delight,  they  heard  from  Mr.  Fox 
a speech  on  their  question  so  masterly,  so  deep,  comprehensive, 
and  exact,  that  their  cause  could  not  have  been  in  better  hands. 
The  grounds  of  the  popular  expectation  from  Mr.  Fox  now  were 
his  strenuous  opposition  to  the  American  war,  at  the  beginning 
of  his  career;  his  sympathy  with  the  French  Revolution,  as 
long  as  it  appeared  to  be  the  protest  of  humanity  against  tyr- 
anny ; his  reprobation  of  the  political  persecutions  which  were 
the  disgrace  of  Mr.  Pitt’s  government ; his  steady  advocacy  of 
Peace  with  France,  even  after  Lord  Grenville  and  his  friends 
had  given  up  all  idea  of  it ; his  advocacy  of  the  Catholic  claims, 
and  of  religious  liberty  everywhere  ; and  his  intrepidity  and  power 
as  the  leader  of  Opposition  during  many  dark  and  stormy  years. 
He  had  undergone  a rupture  in  his  friendship  with  his  master 
and  idol,  Burke,  rather  than  give  up  his  hopes  from  the  French 
Revolution ; and  he  had,  with  his  friends,  seceded  from  the 
House  on  occasion  of  the  passage  of  the  Treason  and  Seditious 
Acts.  He  had  forfeited  the  confidence  of  many  by  his  way  of 
coming  into  power,  with  Lord  North,  in  1770  ; but  of  late,  from 
1797  to  1802,  he  had  retired  from  the  political  world  where  he 
thought  he  could  do  no  good,  and  had  proved  himself  happier 
in  his  country  home,  farming  and  gardening  in  the  mornings, 
and  reading  Greek  plays  in  the  evenings,  than  he  had  ever 
been  while  great  among  the  great  men  of  the  day.  In  1802, 
he  had  been  in  Paris,  and  had  conversed  with  Napoleon, 
and  been  the  guest  of  Lafayette,  and  others  who  understood  the 
politics  of  F ranee ; and  this  seemed  to  improve  the  chances  of 


174 


FOX  FOREIGN  SECRETARY. 


[Book  I. 


peace,  if  he  were  made  Minister.  It  was  to  promote  this  object 
and  another  — the  abolition  of  the  Slave-trade  — that  Mr.  Fox 
made  the  choice  of  office  which  surprised  some  of  his  friends. 
He  chose  to  be  Foreign  Secretary.  The  state  of  opinion  in  France 
in  regard  to  our  leading  statesmen  seems  to  have  been  curious, 
in  those  days.  The  Opposition  were  despised  by  orderly  French- 
men, and  Mr.  Pitt  revered  as  the  upholder  of  Monarchy.1  No 
Frenchman  could  say  that  Mr.  Pitt  had  managed  the  war  very 
well ; but  they  fancied  he  had  saved  his  country  from  revolution. 
Yet  they  could  not  resist  Mr.  Fox’s  sympathy  with  them  as  a 
people,  and  his  disposition  to  be  on  friendly  terms  with  them, 
without  reprobating  their  ideas  or  proceedings,  or  meddling  with 
their  forms  of  government.  At  the  same  time,  we  find  Mr.  Fox, 
at  Paris,  obliged  to  repel  precisely,  however  indignantly,  the 
charge  brought  against  Mr.  Windham,  by  Napoleon  himself,  of 
being  concerned  in  the  plot  of  the  Infernal  Machine.  It  was  ac- 
tually believed  by  intelligent  Frenchmen  that  an  English  politi- 
cal leader  could  plot  for  the  assassination  of  the  ruler  of  France. 
It  is  interesting  here  to  turn  back  to  what  Mr.  Fox  wrote,  in  a 
private  letter,2  in  1778,  about  his  political  destinies.  He  was  then 
thirty-one : now  fifty-seven.  “ People  flatter  me  that  I continue 
to  gain  rather  than  lose  estimation  as  an  orator ; and  I am  so 
convinced  this  is  all  I shall  ever  gain  (unless  I choose  to  be  one 
of  the  meanest  of  men)  that  I never  think  of  any  other  object 
of  ambition.  I am  certainly  ambitious  by  nature  ; but  I have, 
or  think  I have,  totally  subdued  that  passion.  I have  still  as 
much  vanity  as  ever,  which  is  a happier  passion  by  far,  because 
great  reputation,  I think,  I may  acquire  and  keep : great  situa- 
tions I never  can  acquire,  nor,  if  acquired,  keep,  without  making 
sacrifices  that  I will  never  make.”  Everybody  knew  how  simply 
and  generously  he  had  desired  not  to  stand  in  the  way,  when 
Mr.  Pitt  had  been  making  overtures  to  the  Grenvilles  ; and  now, 
at  last,  he  was  in  a “ great  situation,”  such  as  he  had  thought  he 
could  never  acquire  ; and  vast  and  bright  were  the  anticipations 
from  such  an  event.  His  health,  it  is  true,  was  not  good ; but 
the  diligence  with  which  he  undertook  and  prosecuted  the  busi- 
ness of  his  office  prevented  the  public  from  suspecting  how  bad 
it  was.  The  difficulties  of  the  new  Administration  were  known 
to  be  great,  from  the  relations  of  parties,  the  disfavor  of  the  King, 
and  the  temper  and  quality  of  some  of  the  new  Ministers  them- 
selves ; but  we  know  from  the  upright  and  enlightened  Horner  8 
what  was  anticipated  by  such  men  as  himself,  — men  gifted  with 
everything  hut  foresight  as  to  the  changes  of  mortality.  “We 
have  every  reason  to  place  our  trust  in  the  two  leaders  of  this 

1 Memoirs  of  Rom  illy,  ii.  p.  101.  2 To  Mr.  Fitz-Patrick. 

8 Memoirs,  i.  p.  343. 


Chap.  VIII.] 


OTHER  MINISTERS. 


175 


Ministry,  from  their  behavior  to  each  other  in  this  arrangement ; 
whatever  may  have  been  the  case  with  others,  both  Mr.  F ox  and 
Lord  Grenville  have  shown  great  moderation,  and  a perfect  con- 
fidence in  each  other.  If  they  as  perfectly  understand  each 
other,  with  regard  to  the  direction  of  public  measures  in  future, 
we  shall  have  an  administration  of  far  greater  efficiency  and  suc- 
cess than  the  appearances  of  our  domestic  parties,  I must  own, 
wTould  at  first  lead  us  to  expect.” 

Mr.  Fox,  as  has  been  said,  took  the  Foreign  Office.  Lord 
Spencer  was  Home,  and  Mr.  Windham  War  Secre-  other  min- 
tary. The  young  Lord  Henry  Petty  (still  living  as  isters* 
Marquess  of  Lansdowne  ) was  brought  forward  in  the  then  most 
difficult  office  of  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer.  Lord  Sidmouth 
was  Lord  Privy  Seal,  and  Lord  Fitz william  President  of  the 
Council.  Lord  Howick  (afterwards  the  revered  Earl  Grey  of 
our  own  time)  took  the  Admiralty  ; and  the  Earl  of  Moira  had 
the  Ordnance.  The  difficulty  was  about  the  Chancellorship. 
It  was  offered  to  Lord  Mansfield  first,  and  then  to  Lord  Ellen- 
borough,  who  both  declined  it.  It  was  then  given  to  Erskine, 
who,  though  a great  patriot,  and  the  greatest  of  advocates,  was 
not  qualified  for  the  woolsack.  No  one  thought  he  was  ; and 
the  discontent  was  great ; and  no  one  was  more  dissatisfied  than 
himself.  He  went  to  Romilly,  and  implored  guidance  as  to  what 
he  should  read,  and  how  he  should  prepare  himself.  u You  must 
make  me  a Chancellor  now,”  he  said,1  “ that  I may  afterwards 
make  you  one.”  Romilly  himself  became  Solicitor-General,  and 
Pigott  Attorney- General.  A sweeping  change  was  made  in  mi- 
nor offices  : such  a change  as  had  not  been  known  for  many  a 
day  ; and  this  was  no  wonder,  for  there  was  to  be  a sweeping 
change  of  policy.  One  of  the  Prince’s  great  friends,  an  able  man 
who  had  done  good  service  to  good  principles  in  his  day,  had  by 
this  time,  it  appears,  incapacitated  himself  for  receiving  his  due 
reward  of  honor  and  power.  Sheridan’s  political  services  mer- 
ited high  office  ; but  his  personal  habits  excluded  him  from  it. 
In  his  daily  intoxication  he  was  indiscreet ; 2 and  he  could  not 
be  trusted  in  the  Cabinet.  This  is  supposed,  without  doubt,  to  be 
the  reason  why  he  was  made  only  Treasurer  of  the  Navy  ; and 
that,  not  without  hesitation  and  reluctance.  Sir  Gilbert  Elliot’s 
appointment  to  the  Board  of  Control  was  not  understood  or  ap- 
proved ; and,  as  has  been  said,  the  admission  of  Chief  Justice 
Ellenborough  to  a seat  in  the  Cabinet  damaged  the  Administra- 
tion with  both  friends  and  foes. 

Such  was  the  Ministry  which  was  now  to  encounter  unfavor- 
able construction  from  the  King  and  Duke  of  York,  opposition 
vexatious  difficulties  from  the  vulgarity  of  the  Prince  rancor- 
of  Wales,  and  a virulent  persecution  from  the  Opposition  led  by 
1 Memoirs  of  Romilly,  ii.  p.  129.  2 Memoirs  of  Horner,  i.  p.  332. 


176 


FIRST  DIFFICULTIES. 


[Book  I. 


Canning,  then  as  petulant,  provoking,  and  troublesome,  as  any 
spoiled  child  ever  was,  and  the  more  imposing  in  his  petulance 
from  his  idolatrous  regrets  for  his  departed  chief.  Some  of  Mr. 
Pitt’s  friends  conceived,  like  Canning,  that  duty  to  him  required  of 
them  opposition  to  his  successors  of  a most  rancorous  kind.  Oth- 
ers, like  Lord  Carrington,1  when  conversing  with  Lord  Malmes- 
bury, held  that  time  and  fate  had  now  dissolved  all  bonds  of  al- 
legiance and  of  party,  and  that  every  man  should  act  as  seemed 
to  him  best  for  the  public  welfare  ; and  others,  as  Lord  Malmes- 
bury himself,  wondered  that  there  could  be  a doubt  as  to  what 
every  true  Pittite  ought  to  do,  — that  is,  to  hold  to  all  other 
Pittites,  and  keep  aloof  from  political  men  while  the  Whigs 
were  in  power  — just  as  if  Pitt  were  still  alive.  None  of  these 
could  fail  to  be  obstructive  to  the  new  men  ; and  their  power 
of  destruction  seems  to  have  been  in  proportion  to  the  royal  coun- 
tenance of  it.  The  terrors  of  the  rank  Tories  of  the  day  — men 
below  the  power  of  appreciating  Pitt  — told  for  something  on 
weak  heads,  in  palaces  and  out  of  parliament.  Dean  Milner  is 
found  writing  to  Wilberforce  2 that  Fox  and  Petty  were  incapable 
of  steady  enmity  to  the  Slave-trade ; that  they  could  not  do 
anything  from  principle ; that  there  would  be  presently  a filling 
of  the  Church  with  Socinians,  if  not  Deists ; and  that  the  State 
would  be  inundated  with  infidelity  and  low  profligate  morals. 
That,  under  the  administration  of  the  virtuous  man  and  strict 
churchman,  Lord  Grenville,  such  anticipations  should  have  been 
made  by  the  Dean  of  Carlisle,  shows  what  must  have  been  the 
rancor  of  the  time. 

On  the  very  approach  of  “ all  the  talents  ” to  the  King,  a dif- 
First  dim-  ficulty  arose.  When,  on  the  1st  of  February,  Lord 
cuities.  Grenville  read  a paper,  containing  an  account  of  pro- 
posed arrangements,  the  King  was  alarmed  at  the  mention  of 
changes  in  the  army  ; and  yet  more,  when  it  appeared  that  the 
changes  were  thought  to  be  needed  in  that  part  of  the  military 
system  which  was  under  the  charge  of  the  Duke  of  York.  He 
protested  that  this  was  an  affair  of  the  Crown  alone ; and  that 
he  should  be  surrendering  his  prerogative,  if  he  allowed  his  min- 
isters to  meddle  with  the  management  of  the  army,  further  than 
the  mere  levying,  clothing,  and  paying  the  troops.  Since  tlu 
time  of  the  first  Duke  of  Cumberland,  the  sovereign  had  wholly 
controlled  the  army,  through  the  Commander-in-Chief.  Lord 
Grenville  considered  this  unconstitutional  doctrine  ; and  every- 
body understood  that  he  was  dismissed.  But  the  King  sent  for 
him  two  days  afterwards,  and  read  a paper  which  declared  his 
acquiescence  in  Lord  Grenville’s  claim,3  provided  only  no  changes 
in  the  management  of  the  army  were  made  without  his  knowl- 

1 Diaries,  iv.  p.  358.  2 Wilberforce  Correspondence,  ii.  p.  69. 

8 Annual  Register,  1806,  p.  26. 


Chap.  VIII.|  MILITARY  ADMINISTRATION. 


177 


edge  and  consent.  This  being  readily  agreed  to,  as  never  having 
been  questioned,  everything  was  considered  settled,  so  that  the 
ministers  might  proceed  to  business. 

The  most  pressing  affair  was  the  military  administration,  in 
which  the  accomplished,  gallant,  paradoxical  Wind-  Military 
ham  was  the  responsible  man.  He  was  as  perverse  administra- 
on  this  occasion  as  ever.  He  had  been  the  advocate  tl0n' 
of  Mr.  Pitt’s  military  system,  and  of  his  principle  that  the  sol- 
dier must  be  severed  from  the  rest  of  society  — set  apart  for  his 
peculiar  business  — trained,  rewarded,  and  punished  under  a 
wholly  peculiar  regime . Mr.  Pitt’s  notion  of  an  efficient  sol- 
diery was,  that  it  should  be  a perfectly  organized  machine  of  of- 
fence, each  individual  being  as  inorganic  as  man  can  be  made. 
Mr.  Pitt’s  great  supporter  in  this  view  2 now  brought  forward  a 
plan  of  military  defence,  the  chief  object  of  which  was  to  improve 
the  condition  and  character  of  the  soldier  by  enlisting  him  for 
seven  years,  with  an  addition  of  three,  in  ca>e  of  actual  war,  in- 
stead of  for  life.  At  the  same  time,  he  would  not  hear  of  any 
mitigation  of  the  barbarous  punishments  to  which  soldiers  were 
then  subject ; for  he  insisted  on  severity  of  discipline  as  emphat- 
ically as  in  Mr.  Pitt’s  time.  The  singular  spectacle  was  thus 
witnessed  of  Mr.  Windham  sitting  to  hear  his  plan  praised  by 
successive  speakers  on  opposite  grounds.  One  showed  how  much 
more  formidable  the  soldier  would  be  to  the  enemy  by  retaining 
his  citizen  character  and  interests,  expecting  to  reenter  society 
as  a civilian  after  a definite  term  ; while  another  expressed  agree- 
ment with  Mr.  Windham  in  his  belief,  that  unless  a system  of 
exclusive  treatment  and  singular  discipline  was  preserved,  there 
would  be  no  resource  but  the  conscription  for  reinforcing  the 
army.  Mr.  Canning  made  bitter  sport  of  Mr.  Windham’s  in- 
consistencies in  this  business  ; but  did  not  prevent  the  measure 
from  passing.  He  and  his  friends  made  merry  with  the  new 
method  of  recruiting,  which  would,  they  were  sure,  bring  forth 
no  soldiers.  By  this  time,  it  had  become  a very  difficult  matter 
to  procure  recruits.  The  more  stringent  the  compulsion  applied 
by  the  preceding  ministries,  and  the  more  broad  the  cajoling  of  the 
young  men  of  the  nation,  the  fewer  came  forth  for  the  defence  of 
the  country  ; so  that  now,  after  so  many  years  of  war  and  ex- 
haustion, it  would  have  been  no  wonder  if  any  new  scheme  had 
failed.  But  as  soon  as  Mr.  Windham’s  plan  became  understood 
throughout  the  country,  recruiting  began  to  improve,  and  deser- 
tion to  diminish.  There  seemed  no  doubt  that  if  the  minister 
had  been  consistent  — reducing  the  barbarity  of  punishments, 
and  encouraging  the  award  of  honors  — his  plan  would  have 
worked  better  still.  But  he  could  not  be  consistent,  though  he 

1 Hansard,  vi.  pp.  652-688. 

12 


VOL.  I. 


178 


FINANCIAL  ADMINISTRATION. 


[Book  L 


could  be  obstinate  on  particular  points.  He  threw  his  whole 
force  into  the  advocacy  of  military  punishments,  bull  and  hear 
baiting,  the  slave-trade,  and  other  inhumanities,  and  opposed  pop- 
ular education  as  a mighty  national  evil,  while  taking  credit,  from 
himself  as  well  as  from  others,  for  drawing  men  into  military 
duty  by  humane  inducements,  and  a manifestation  of  respect  for 
their  citizen  character.  His  proposal  for  limited  service  passed 
the  Commons  on  the  6th  of  June,  or  rather,  at  four  in  the  morn- 
ing of  the  7th,  hy  a majority  of  92  ; 1 and  the  Lords  dismissed  it 
from  their  House  on  the  17th,  and  sent  word  to  the  Commons 
that  they  had  passed  the  bill. 

The  new  ministers  gained  little  credit  by  their  financial  plans 
. , and  management.  Their  excuse  for  not  fulfilling  the 
administra-  expectations  they  had  raised  while  in  Opposition  was, 
that  the  estimates  were  prepared  by  their  predeces- 
sors, and  the  financial  plans  of  the  year  laid,  so  that  they  could 
not  proceed  to  reduction  at  once.  They  proposed  several  new 
taxes,  which  (as  seems  to  be  a fatality  with  the  Whigs)  were  so 
bad  as  to  be  successively  given  up.  Lord  Henry  Petty  gave  up 
the  private  brewing  tax  ; and  the  manufacturing  districts  com- 
pelled him  to  take  back  his  projects  of  taxing  unwrought  iron. 
The  matter  ended  in  his  adding  10  per  cent,  to  the  assessed 
taxes,  and  raising  the  property  and  income  tax  from  6J  to  10  per 
cent.  The  odium  which  these  measures  brought  on  men  who  had 
spoken  as  they  had  done  about  the  burden  of  taxation,  may  be 
imagined.  Gillray,  the  caricaturist,  did  them  as  much  mischief 
out  of  parliament  as  the  Opposition  could  within  it ; and,  after 
standing  at  the  print-shops  to  see  Fox  and  Petty  as  tax-gather- 
ers insulting  John  Bull,  or  Fox  as  a bear  and  Petty  a dog, 
taught  to  dance  by  Lord  Grenville,  men  went  home,  sorrowful 
and  indignant,  to  wonder  at  themselves  for  putting  their  trust  in 
popular  leaders,  any  more  than  in  princes.  Here  was  Charles 
James  Fox,  of  all  men,  heavily  increasing  the  income  tax,  and 
exempting  the  King’s  income  from  the  tax  ! As  he  never  could 
read  Adam  Smith,  or  fix  his  attention  on  political  economy,  it 
was  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  he  had  joined  in  proposing  unten- 
able imposts,  exposing  his  incapacity  as  a financier  ; but  it  was 
not  like  him  to  exempt  the  King’s  income  from  a burden  which 
pressed  heavily  upon  every  other  man  in  the  country  who  was 
not  a pauper.  The  new  ministry  gained  no  credit  in  its  financial 
department. 

Meantime,  the  objects  which  have  been  mentioned  as  earest 
Negotiation  to  Fox’s  heart  when  he  accepted  office  were  occu- 
for  peace.  pying  his  mind,  and  taking  form  under  his  hands. 
Peace  and  the  abolition  of  the  slave-trade  were  those  aims. 

1 Hansard,  vii.  pp.  559,  684. 


Chap.  VIII.]  NEGOTIATION  FOR  PEACE. 


179 


Early  in  February,  Mr.  Fox  received  a request  that  he  would 
forward  a passport  to  a foreigner  arrived  at  Gravesend  from 
Paris,  who  had  important  tidings  to  communicate.  Mr.  Fox 
sent  for  him,  and  granted  him  a private  interview  in  his  own 
house.  After  some  introductory  conversation,  the  man  opened 
to  Mr.  Fox  a scheme  for  the  assassination  of  Napoleon,  who  was 
to  be  shot  from  a house  at  Passy  as  he  went  by.  The  fellow  ap- 
peared to  have  no  doubt  that  he  was  telling  very  acceptable  news, 
while  the  minister  was  so  utterly  confounded  at  finding  himself 
tete-a-tete  with  an  assassin,  that  he  lost  presence  of  mind.  He 
rang  the  bell,  and  ordered  him  to  be  chased  from  the  house,  and 
from  the  kingdom,  as  soon  as  possible.  Presently,  however,  it 
occurred  to  him  that  this  was  not  the  way  to  prevent  the  assassi- 
nation. He  sent  after  the  wretch,  and  had  him  detained,  and 
immediately  wrote  to  Talleyrand  a detail  of  the  affair,1  with  as 
much  as  he  understood  of  the  plot,  promising  to  detain  the  man 
as  long  as  the  law  would  allow,  and  then  to  have  him  landed  as 
far  as  possible  from  Paris.  It  is  curious  that  this  incident  should 
have  befallen  the  statesman  who  had  so  lately  been  obliged  to 
defend  Mr.  Windham  from  the  imputation  of  having  been  con- 
cerned in  a similar  plot ; and  that  Napoleon  should  have  lauded 
Mr.  Fox’s  conduct  in  giving  warning  of  the  danger,  as  a remark- 
able exhibition  of  “ principles  of  honor  and  of  virtue.”  No 
more  seems  to  have  been  heard  of  the  stranger ; but  it  appears 
that  the  incident  prepared  the  way  for  a peace  negotiation.  On 
the  same  day  that  M.  Talleyrand  wrote  Napoleon’s  message  of 
acknowledgment,  he  sent  to  Mr.  Fox  the  Emperor’s  speech  to 
the  legislature,  pointing  out  to  his  particular  observation  the  par- 
agraph,2 “ I desire  peace  with  England.  On  my  part,  I shall 
never  delay  it  for  a moment.  I shall  always  be  ready  to  con- 
clude it,  taking  for  its  basis  the  stipulations  of  the  Treaty  of 
Amiens.”  Mr.  Fox  laid  this  before  the  King,  and  then  wrote 
a simple  and  kindly  letter  to  Talleyrand,  explaining  how  the 
Treaty  of  Amiens  and  its  stipulations  admitted  of  various  inter- 
pretations, and  declaring  a readiness  to  go  into  the  matter,  and 
see  where  the  causes  of  misunderstanding  and  war  really  lay  ; 
the  interest  of  the  allies  of  England,  and  the  security  of  Europe 
at  large,  being  considered  throughout.  The  correspondence  pro- 
ceeded, without  much  ground  being  gained,  till  June,  when  a new 
move  was  made  by  the  French  minister.  Lord  Yarmouth  was 
among  the  English  detained  in  France  since  the  breaking  out  of 
the  war.  He  arrived  in  Paris  from  Verdun  at  the  beginning  of 
June,  and  was  immediately  sent  for  by  Talleyrand,  who  wished 
to  charge  him  with  the  secret  reasons  for  the  refusal  of  France 
to  admit  Russia  into  the  negotiation.  Lord  Yarmouth  was  un- 
1 Annual  Register,  1806,  pp.  708,  709.  2 ibid.  p.  710. 


180 


FRANCE  DISINGENUOUS. 


[Book  1. 


willing  to  be  concerned  in  the  matter,  as  he  did  not  desire  peace, 
and  would  have  opposed  it,  if  he  had  been  in  his  place  at  home  ; 
but  Talleyrand  compelled  him  to  hear,  and  charged  him  to  con- 
vey some  very  gracious  sayings  — such  as  that  England  was 
welcome  to  Sicily,  that  France  would  not  ask  her  to  give  up  any- 
thing, and  that  the  feelings  of  the  French  nation  had  entirely 
changed,  the  asperity  which  had  marked  the  beginning  of  the 
war  having  given  place  to  an  earnest  desire  for  peace.1  Napoleon 
frequently  asked  whether  Lord  Yarmouth  had  any  credentials, 
saying  that  in  diplomacy  the  agents  did  not  speak  the  same  politi- 
cal language  unless  they  spoke  under  an  equality  of  authoriza- 
tion. The  due  powers  were  sent  to  Lord  Yarmouth  ; but  mean- 
time, Talleyrand  had  gone  back  from  the  point  about  Sicily,  and, 
as  may  be  seen  in  the  published  correspondence,  shuffled  so  dis- 
gracefully, that  it  seems  surprising  that  Mr.  Fox  could  have  had 
any  hope  of  a good  issue  with  such  an  opponent.  On  the  25th 
of  July,  the  news  arrived  in  London  that  a treaty  between 
Russia  and  F ranee,  which  had  been  slily  negotiated  all  this  while, 
had  been  signed.  This  was  mortifying  and  enfeebling  to  Eng- 
land ; and  bitterly  did  Mr.  Fox  feel  it  to  be  so:  but  it  opened 
the  way  for  sending  from  England  a duly  accredited  ambassador, 
to  treat  openly  for  peace ; and  Lord  Lauderdale  was  the  man. 
“ In  the  present  disposition  of  the  French  government,”  wrote 
Mr.  Fox  to  Lord  Yarmouth  on  the  2d  of  August,  “there  is,  I 
fear,  little  probability  that  peace  can  be  concluded  on  such  terms 
as  are  alone  admissible.  The  trial  should,  however,  be  made 
with  frankness  and  good  faith  ; and  it  is  with  this  view  that  his 
Majesty  has  been  pleased  to  direct  that  the  Earl  of  Lauderdale 
should  proceed  to  Paris,  notwithstanding  the  present  unfavora- 
ble aspect  of  the  negotiation.”  Lords  Yarmouth  and  Lauderdale 
united  their  efforts  to  keep  the  slippery  French  minister  to  the 
original  points  of  the  negotiation  ; but  it  was  in  vain.  He  never 
gave  them  any  hold.  When  they  resolved,  as  they  did  repeat- 
edly, to  leave  Paris,  he  became  cordial  and  reasonable,  and  ap- 
parently frank  ; but,  as  soon  as  they  seemed  to  be  in  a fair  way 
of  coming  to  an  agreement,  he  was  off  again.  At  last,  in  Octo- 
ber, he  and  his  master  suddenly  left  Paris  without  notice,  and 
the  insulted  Englishmen  demanded  their  passports,  and  came 
home.2  After  the  entire  correspondence  had  been  presented  to 
parliament,  no  one  could  pretend  that  our  ambassadors  had  been 
impatient,  or  could  deny  that  they  had  manifested  a most  patri- 
otic forbearance  under  treatment  the  most  disingenuous  and  pro- 
voking. But  there  are  some  who  believe,  even  to  this  day,  that 
it  was  Mr.  Fox’s  illness  and  death  which  intercepted  the  hopes 
of  peace  ; and  that  if  he  had  lived,  the  darling  aim  of  his  polit- 
1 Annual  Register,  1806,  p.  724.  2 Hansard,  viii.  pp.  92-213. 


Chap.  VIII.] 


MINISTERIAL  STRENGTH. 


181 


ical  life  would  have  been  accomplished.  He  did  not  live  to 
know  that  the  separate  treaty  with  Russia,  improperly  obtained 
for  the  intimidation  of  England,  had  been  indignantly  repudiated 
by  the  Emperor  of  Russia ; 1 but  he  had  experienced  enough  of 
the  dishonesty  of  Napoleon  and  his  minister  to  be  convinced  that 
it  was  more  easy  to  plead  for  peace  with  France  than  to  obtain 
it.  In  the  spring,  at  the  outset  of  the  negotiation,  he  had  lost 
popularity  by  appearing  to  be  yielding  to  Lord  Grenville’s  less 
pacific  policy  ; 2 and  there  can  be  little  doubt  that,  from  the  time 
of  Lord  Lauderdale’s  arrival  in  Paris,  he  pursued  the  negotia- 
tion from  a sense  of  duty,  and  not  from  any  hope  of  success. 

In  parliament,  the  Grenville  Ministry  was  doing  well  through- 
out the  spring.  They  had  large  majorities,  whenever  Ministerial 
they  chose  to  ask  for  them.  But  in  the  country  they  strensfch- 
did  not  stand  so  well  as  at  first.  They  were  not  good  men-of- 
business,  and  they  were  at  once  oppressive  and  feeble  as  finan- 
ciers. Their  enemies  — with  the  Duke  of  York  at  their  head 
— seeing  this,  and  honestly  believing  that  it  was  bad  for  the 
country  that  it  should  be  ruled  by  a Cabinet  so  variously  com- 
posed, so  prone  to  favor  the  French  and  the  Catholics,  and  so 
unacceptable  to  the  King,  plotted  to  make  “ a push  at  it  be- 
fore the  recess.”  3 The  Duke  of  York  saw  Lord  Chatham  about 
this,  and  then  Lord  Malmesbury ; and  Lord  Malmesbury  wrote 
to  Canning ; and  they  got  as  far  as  to  agree  that  if  they  could 
find  a Pittite  leader,  they  ought  to  stand  out  against  parliamen- 
tary majorities,  as  Mr.  Pitt  did  in  1783,  till  they  could  bring  the 
majority  over  to  their  side.  This  implied  that  they  were  to 
be  supported  by  the  King ; and  when  Lord  Malmesbury  hinted 
a question  as  to  how  this  caballing  would  be  regarded  at  Windsor, 
the  Duke  of  York  laughingly  said  that  he  would  take  the  risk 
of  that.  All  this  seemed  to  Lord  Malmesbury  “ very  cheering ; ” 
but  the  plotters  were  at  a loss  for  a leader.  All  agreed  that  the 
Duke  of  Portland  ought  to  be  the  man ; but  his  health,  though 
improved  by  a severe  surgical  experiment,  was  not  thought  equal 
to  such  a charge.  Though  many  conversations  were  held  with  the 
Duke  of  Portland  and  with  Mr.  Perceval  (the  two  next  Prime 
Ministers)  on  the  subject,  it  “ came  to  nothing.”  The  Ministerial 
majorities  in  parliament,  and  the  good  repute  of  Lord  Grenville 
and  Mr.  Fox,  were,  probably,  still  too  strong.  The  letter  from 
Lord  Malmesbury  to  Canning  bears  date  the  7th  of  June.  On  the 
10th.  Mr.  Fox  moved  a resolution  in  the  Commons,4  which  was 
carried  with  scarcely  any  opposition,  that  the  House,  Reprobatioil 
reprobating  the  African  Slave-trade,  would,  with  all  of  the  slave- 
possible  expedition,  take  measures  for  abolishing  the  trale‘ 

1 Hansard,  viii.  p.  211.  2 Life  of  Wilberforce,  iii.  p.  267. 

3 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  359.  4 Hansard,  vii.  p.  585. 


182 


THE  SLAVE-TRADE. 


[Book  1. 


trade.  Thus  was  he  working  towards  his  second  great  object 
in  accepting  a “ great  situation,”  while  his  enemies  were  caballing 
to  remove  him  ; and  high  were  the  hopes  of  the  abolitionists  who 
had  wrought  hard  for  this  end  for  so  many  years,  amidst  alter- 
nations of  depression  and  encouragement,  when  a deadly  appre- 
hension struck  upon  their  hearts.  The  day  week  after  Mr.  Fox’s 
fine  speech,  broad  resolution,  and  spirited  reply  to  objectors,  two 
of  the  faithful  abolitionists  met  and  mourned  together.  “ Wil- 
liam Smith  with  us  after  the  House,”  1 says  Wilberforce’s  Diary, 
under  date  of  June  27th,  “and  talking  of  poor  Fox  constrain- 
edly ; when  at  last,  overcome  by  his  feelings,  he  burst  out  with 
a real  divulging  of  his  danger  — dropsy.”  It  was  even  so ; 
though  his  strenuous  attention  to  business,  his  diligence  and 
cheerfulness,  had  disguised  from  others  the  decline  of  whicli  he 
appears  to  have  been  sensible  himself.  He  contemplated,  at  least, 
absence  from  parliament  for  the  session  when  he  said  that  he 
wished  to  go  down  to  the  House  once  more,  to  say  something  on 
the  Slave-trade.  This  motion  was  the  last  he  ever  made. 

The  Abolitionists  had  been  sorely  disappointed  by  Mr.  Pitt,  in 
regard  to  this  question ; and  they  now  believed  that,  through 
Mr.  Fox,  they  had  gained  everything.  It  is  scarcely  possible 
for  us  now  to  conceive  of  the  nature  and  virulence  of  the  opposi- 
tion to  the  abolition  of  slavery,  and  even  of  the  slave-trade,  in  the 
early  days  of  the  question.  The  great  West  India  interest  was 
only  one  obstacle  among  many.  Many  defended  slavery  — in 
which  they  included  the  slave-trade  — as  scriptural.  Some 
scholars  defended  it  as  classical,  and  talked  of  Epictetus.  Lord 
Eldon  defended  it  as  constitutional  General  Gascoigne  asserted 
it  to  be  not  only  necessary,  but  praiseworthy  and  beautiful ; an 
institution  which,  if  it  had  not  always  existed,  ought  always  to 
have  existed.  Many  more  were  averse  to  permitting  “ property  ” 
in  any  form  to  be  touched,  not  knowing  how  far  the  meddling 
might  go ; and  more  still  did  not  see  what  they  had  to  do  with 
it,  and  would  not  allow  any  “ real  business,”  to  be  put  aside 
for  the  sake  of  what  was  out  of  sight,  and  no  affair  of  theirs. 
Hut  for  the  accident  of  Mr.  Pitt  and  Mr.  Wilberforce  being  per- 
sonal friends,  and  very  intimate,  it  is  probable  that  even  the 
devotedness  of  Clarkson  and  Wilberforce,  and  their  earnest 
coadjutors,  would  have  failed  to  obtain  results  so  early  as  they 
did  — long  as  the  delay  seemed  to  humane  men  who  knew  what 
was  suffered  by  negroes  from  day  to  day,  in  the  prosecution  of 
the  devilish  traffic.  Wilberforce  stimulated  Mr.  Pitt  to  a degree 
of  activity  which  perplexed  foreign  potentates,  who  had  no  Clark- 
son or  Wilberforce  among  their  subjects.  They  believed,  as 
some  foreign  governments  believe  to  this  hour,  that  there  was 
1 Life,  iii.  p.  268. 


Chap.  VIII.]  WILBERFORCE  AND  PITT. 


183 


some*,  deep  political  scheme,  some  trap,  as  they  said,  concealed 
under  the  pretence  of  England’s  humanity  towards  the  negroes  ; 
and  yet,  while  exciting  this  kind  of  speculation  abroad,  Mr.  Pitt 
was  disappointing  the  abolitionists  at  home.  Habits  of  delay 
grew  upon  him  as  his  health  and  spirits  failed  ; and  he  omitted 
some  acts,  and  lingered  over  some  engagements,  on  behalf  of 
the  negroes,  so  as  to  justify  doubts  about  his  entire  sincerity  in 
the  matter.  On  the  other  hand,  no  man  was  less  able  „ 

W ilberiorce. 

than  Wilberforce  to  understand  business  on  a large 
scale,  or  comprehend  how  a Prime  Minister  must  arrange  his  ob- 
jects, and  regulate  his  transactions.  Wilberforce’s  own  house 
was  a chaos  of  disorder,  and  his  days  were  broken  up  in  r 
snatches  of  business,  piety,  and  social  intercourse,  which  would 
have  constituted  a useless  life  but  for  the  sublime  purpose  of 
humanity  which  bound  it  together.  In  the  midst  of  this  disorder, 
Wilberforce  stood  struck  with  admiration,  at  times,  of  his  friend 
Pitt’s  sagacity,  practical  ability,  and  power  of  achievement;  and 
yet,  he  could  never  let  him  alone  about  the  one  piece  of  business 
in  which  they  were  concerned  together.  It  was  probably  ne- 
cessary that  Pitt  should  be  reminded  occasionally  — kept  up  to 
his  professions  and  promises : but  it  was  not  necessary  or  advan- 
tageous that  he  should  be  teased,  as  Wilberforce  undoubtedly 
teased  him ; and  the  cause  may  have  suffered  hy  it.  Pitt  was 
not  the  man  to  bear  lecturing  and  teasing,  and  being  dictated 
to;  or  if,  from  his  own  sweet  temper  and  Wilberforce's  goodness, 
he  bore  it,  he  could  not  like  it,  or  be  the  better  disposed  by  it. 
Wilberforce  saw  little  or  nothing  beyond  the  cause  to  which  he 
had  devoted  his  life : and  in  the  most  innocent  way,  he  would 
endanger  the  government,  and  harass  the  Minister,  and  push 
aside  all  business  but  his  own,  in  a way  which  can  be  justified 
only  in  regard  to  questions  of  the  most  urgent  exigency ; and 
then,  if  controlled  by  petition  or  remonstrance  which  his  affec- 
tionate heart  and  anxious  conscience  could  not  resist,  he  would 
mourn  over  the  lack  of  principle  and  zeal  in  the  Minister  who 
had  all  the  affairs  of  empire  on  his  hands.  It  is  clear  that  Pitt 
either  promised  too  much  or  did  too  little : but  it  may  be  re- 
membered that  he  was  under  a gentle  compulsion  from  without 
which  was  out  of  all  proportion  to  the  zeal  within ; and  incon- 
sistency in  profession  and  action  was  the  natural,  however  mis- 
chievous, consequence. 

When  the  Grenville  and  Fox  Ministry  came  in,  it  was  one  of 
the  questions  spread  out  before  their  eyes,  on  which  they,  as  in- 
dividuals, though  not  as  a cabinet,  were  to  take  their  side  at  the 
outset.  The  royal  family  were  opposed  to  the  aboltionists  ; and 
so  was  Mr.  Windham ; and  some  other  members  of  the  Cabinet 
were  indifferent,  or  doubtful,  or  adverse : but  Lords  Grenville, 


184 


PROHIBITION  NOT  ABOLITION. 


[Book  I. 

Spencer,  and  Henry  Petty,  were  broadly  favorable  to  the  aboli- 
tion of  the  slave-trade.  As  for  Mr.  Fox,  he  was  “quite  rampant 
and  playful,”  says  Wilberforce,1  “ as  he  was  twenty-two  years 
ago,  when  not  under  any  awe  of  his  opponents.”  He  was  under 
no  awe  which  prevented  his  speaking  out ; and  in  private  he 
obtained  the  Prince’s  “ word  of  honor  not  to  stir  adversely.” 
There  was  little  doubt  about  success  in  the  Comirons;  and  little 
hope  from  the  Lords  ; but,  to  the  surprise  of  the  Premier,  he 
found  his  strength  there  so  great  that  he  transcended  in  his 
speech  the  bounds  of  his  measure,  to  prepare  the  way  for  a 
Colonial  slave-  hroader  proposition  afterwards.  The  measure  now 
trade  pro-  under  their  Lordships’  notice  was  a Bill  to  prohibit 
the  exportation  of  slaves  from  the  British  colonies, 
after  the  1st  of  January,  1807 ; and  its  object  was  to  prevent  the 
employment  of  British  capital  and  shipping  in  the  foreign  slave- 
trade.  This  Bill  passed  the  Lords  2 so  triumphantly  that  the 
Ministers  at  once  determined  to  proceed.  It  was  too  late  in  the 
session  to  procure  the  passage  of  a Bill  to  prohibit  the  slave- 
trade  altogether  ; but,  as  we  have  seen,  Mr.  Fox’s  condemna- 
tory resolution  was  passed,  almost  by  acclamation  ; and  by  it  the 
House  stood  pledged  to  procure  the  abolition  of  the  traffic,  as 
soon  as  possible.  If  it  should  please  Heaven,  the  abolitionists 
said,  that  Mr.  Fox  should  live,  and  Lord  Grenville  rule  for 
another  year,  the  thing  would  be  done.  Mr.  Fox  did  not  live, 
nor  Lord  Grenville  rule,  another  year  ; but  the  question  was  too 
far  advanced  ever  to  go  back,  or  be  lost  sight  of.  In  order  to 
prevent  such  pushing  of  the  trade  before  the  next  1st  of  January 
as  the  fixing  of  that  date  would  naturally  occasion,  a Bill  was 
rapidly  passed,  before  the  end  of  the  session,3  to  prevent  the 
employment  of  any  fresh  ships  in  the  trade. 

Lord  Sidmouth  was  one  of  the  members  of  the  Cabinet  who 
could  not,  on  this  question,  act  with  the  leaders.  He  did  not 
talk  paradox  or  inhumanity,  like  Mr.  Windham  ; but  he  could 
no  more  obtain  a hearing  from  the  abolitionists  than  if  he  had. 
Mr.  Fox  treated  him  with  candor.4  “I  see  what  you  mean,”  he 
said.  “ You  think  that  abolition  is  not  abolition ; and  there  is  a 
good  deal  of  truth  in  that.”  Lord  Sidmoutli’s  view  was  that, 
while  much  might  be  done  for  humanity,  by  regulation,  on  the 
coast  of  Africa,  in  the  middle  passage,  and  in  the  West  Indies, 
it  was  rash  beyond  measure  to  prohibit  the  trade  altogether ; 
as  the  smuggling  which  must  ensue  would  occasion  more  misery 
to  the  negroes  than  their  race  were  at  present  undergoing. 
Twenty  years  after,  Lord  Sidmouth  was  able  to  point  to  the 
fulfilment  of  this  prediction.0  By  that  time  it  was  becoming 

1 Life,  iii.  p.  259.  2 Hansard,  vii.  p.  236. 

4 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  ii.  p.  429. 


3 Ibid.  p.  1145. 
5 Ibid.  p.  430. 


Chap.  VIII.]  ACQUITTAL  OF  LORD  MELVILLE. 


185 


known  that  the  slave-trade  had  enormously  increased,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  efforts  to  put  it  down  ; and  that  the  miseries  of 
the  negroes  had  been  fearfully  aggravated.  But,  at  the  date  of 
our  history,  no  man,  on  any  side  of  the  question,  seems  to  have 
seen  what  time  and  experience  are  now  clearly  revealing,  — that 
the  only  way  to  abolish  the  trade  in  slaves  is  to  abolish  slavery. 
While  negro  slavery  exists,  negroes  will  be  obtained ; and  with 
the  more  desperation  and  cruelty,  the  more  the  traffic  is  interfered 
with  by  law.  When,  a few  years  later,  the  light  broke  in  upon 
the  abolitionists  that  this  should  have  been  their  method  and  aim, 
they  were  humbled  at  this  new  instance  of  human  blindness,  and 
vexed  that  they  had  not  asked  for  the  whole  at  once,  when  they 
might  as  easily  have  obtained  it  as  the  part  which  they  had 
gained ; but  it  was  yet  some  time  before  the  bitter  conviction 
reached  their  souls  that  their  efforts  of  so  many  years  had,  at 
present,  served  only  to  aggravate  the  misery  which  they  thought 
to  annihilate.  There  is  no  need  to  regard  their  efforts  as  lost, 
and  their  noble  energy  as  wasted.  Their  immediate  object 
failed;  as  is  the  case,  oftener  than  not,  with  express  aims,  while 
various  unforeseen  collateral  benefits  arise.  They  aggravated 
the  slave-trade ; but  they  led  on  mankind  to  the  abolition  of 
slavery  itself ; and  placed  before  the  eyes  of  the  world  a specta- 
cle of  a policy  of  morality  which  cannot  but  have  an  incalculable 
influence  on  the  advancement  of  political  and  social  morals 
wherever  states  and  society  exist.  Mr.  Fox  said  a few  words,  on 
occasion  of  the  last  motion  he  ever  made  in  parliament,  when 
moving  his  resolution  against  the  Slave-trade,  which  show,  in 
a way  most  touching  to  survivors,  what  was  his  view  of  the 
moral  and  political  importance  of  the  movement.1  “ So  fully 
am  I impressed/’  he  said,  “ with  the  vast  importance  and  neces- 
sity of  attaining  what  will  be  the  object  of  my  motion  this  day, 
that  if,  during  the  almost  forty  years  that  I have  now  had  the 
honor  of  a seat  in  parliament,  I had  been  so  fortunate  as  to  ac- 
complish that,  and  that  only,  I should  think  I had  done  enough, 
and  could  retire  from  public  life  with  comfort,  and  conscious  sat- 
isfaction that  I had  done  my  duty.” 

Lord  Melville’s  business  was  concluded  this  summer  — con- 
cluded so  far  as  that  a considerable  majority  of  the  Acqllittal 
Peers  acquitted  him  under  the  ten  heads  of  the  im-  of  Lord 
peachment.  The  trial  began  in  Westminster  Hall  on  Melvilie* 
the  29th  of  April,  and  the  votes  were  taken  on  the  12th  of  June, 
after  sixteen  days  of  trial.2  Among  those  who  judged  him,  in 
and  out  of  Westminster  Hall,  there  were  many  who  pitied  his 
position  — many  who  thought  him  an  ill-used  man  — many  who 
thought  him  punished  enough  by  exposure  and  suspense  — and 
1 Hansard,  vii.  p.  580.  2 Annual  Register,  1806,  p.  113. 


186 


RESULTS  OF  THE  MELVILLE  AFFAIR.  [Book  L 

not  a few  who,  out  of  consideration  to  his  family,  his  friends,  and 
his  peers,  were  glad  that  he  should  44  get  off.”  But  it  was  felt  at 
the  time,  and  has  been  felt  since,  impossible  that  many,  if  any, 
should  believe  him  actually  innocent  of  the  charges  brought 
against  him.  That  he  was  declared  innocent  by  considerable 
majorities  tended  to  bring  into  contempt  and  disrepute  the  House 
of  Lords  and  trial  by  impeachment ; and  the  tampering  with  the 
tr  ilh  — the  decision  against  evidence  for  unassigned  reasons  — 
was  gravely  injurious  to  the  morality  of  the  time,  and  to  the  rep- 
utation of  statesmanship  in  England.  It  was  this  which  caused 
the  grief  of  good  men  at  the  event  of  the  impeachment,  and  not 
any  mortification  at  the  escape  of  the  culprit.  If  such  men  had 
been  capable  of  vindictiveness,  they  might  have  been  satisfied ; 
for  Lord  Melville  was  abundantly  punished.  He  was  not  a man 
of  very  sensitive  honor  ; and  he  did  not  therefore  suffer  as  most 
men  of  rank  and  education  would  have  done  in  such  a position. 
He  was,  as  his  friends  said,  44  tough,”  in  mind  as  in  body ; and 
he  no  more  drooped,  or  secluded  himself,  or  seemed  aware  of  dis- 
grace, than  he  grew  thin,  or  gray,  or  feeble ; but  still  he  suffered. 
He  was  pushed  aside  from  the  life  of  activity  and  official  excite- 
ment which  he  dearly  loved;  he  was  dethroned  from  his  suprem- 
acy in  Scotland,  by  his  loss  of  patronage  and  personal  honor  ; 
he  had  become  a subject  for  taunts  which  he  could  not  repel, 
nor,  in  his  inmost  heart,  slight;  and  for  ingratitude  from  some 
who  were  now  too  much  scandalized  to  remember  the  benefits 
they  had  received  from  him  when  he  was  worshipped  as  a great 
man  ; and  he  lived  to  receive  a long  letter  from  Mr.  Perceval, 
explaining  that  the  reason  why  he  could  not  ask  Lord  Melville  to 
join  his  Ministry,  where  his  talents  would  have  been  most  ac- 
ceptable, was,  that  such  an  accession  would  damage  its  character. 
He  lived  on,  amidst  wounded  pride  and  reduction  of  the  conse- 
quence he  had  loved  so  well  — lived  on,  in  apparent  cheerfulness 
and  unquestionable  good-humor  — even  shaking  hands  heartily 
with  Wilberforce,  when,  some  years  after,  they  met,  face  to  face, 
in  the  narrow  passage  which  leads  from  the  Horse  Guards  to 
the  Treasury;  but,  in  spite  of  his  toughness,  he  must  have  suf- 
fered deeply ; or,  if  he  did  not,  his  immunity  wras  not  that 
which  would  have  been  preferred  to  suffering  by  a highly 
honorable  man.  That  he  had  been  the  means  of  lowering, 
throughout  the  world,  the  character  of  English  statesmanship, 
wrould  have  poisoned  the  peace  of  such  a man.  The  one  good 
result  which  followed  from  the  wdiole  affair  was  the  warning  to 
official  men  — (not  to  be  honest,  for  it  is  hoped  that  such  warn- 
ing is  never  needed  — but)  to  be  minutely  accurate,  to  have  nc 
unauthorized  secrets  about  the  affairs  of  their  office  — and  to 
choose  their  underlings  carefully,  and  superintend  them  dili- 


Chap.  VIII.] 


DEATH  OF  MR.  FOX. 


187 


gently.  No  such  “ inadvertency  ” as  Lord  Melville’s  has  since 
occurred. 

On  the  26th  of  July,  Lord  Sidmouth  told  his  brother  that 
Mr.  Fox’s  situation  was  quite  hopeless,  though  he  Mr.  Fox’s  m- 
inight  live  some  time.1  He  called  on  the  sick  man,  ness- 
two  days  after,  and  found  him  cheerful  — reading  Virgil,  good- 
humored  and  friendly  — his  voice  clear,  his  mind  bright,  but  his 
aspect  that  of  fatal  disease.  In  two  days  more,2  Lord  Ellenborough 
was  writing  to  Lord  Sidmouth  of  this  illness  being  “ a calamity 
of*  enormous  magnitude  ; ” and  of  the  strong  probability  that  the 
Cabinet  must  break  up,  through  disunion  among  its  members, 
if  Fox  should  die.  He  mentions  Lord  Mo  wick  as  having  agree- 
ably surprised  him  by  his  moderation  in  politics,  and  as  being, 
from  his  administration  of  naval  affairs,  of  inestimable  impor- 
tance to  the  government.  In  the  middle  of  August,  some  cheer- 
ing intelligence  came  from  abroad,  which  raised  the  spirits  of  the 
Cabinet,  and  animated  its  weaker  members  to  the  hope  that,  by 
earnest  striving  and  mutual  forbearance,  they  might  get  on,  when 
the  life  and  soul  of  their  body  should  have  been  taken  away. 
On  the  12th  of  September  died  Lord  Thurlow  — the  Death  of  Lord 
surly  lawyer,  who  was  hardly  ever  known  to  admire  Thurlow- 
anyone  but  Fox;  and  of  whom  Fox  said  that  he  wondered 
whether  anybody  was  ever  so  wise  as  Lord  Thurlow  looked. 
The  two  men  were  leaving  life  together  — the  one,  honored  by 
nobody,  and  disliked  universally  ; the  other,  less  honored  per- 
haps than  beloved ; but  beloved  as  few  men  are,  even  of  those 
who  live  in  quieter  regions  than  those  of  politicalstrife.  Fox 
died  the  next  day,  September  18th.  Canning  was  Death  of 
among  those  who  had  heard  — what  every  one  was  in-  Mr*  Fox- 
quiring  for  — the  circumstances  of  his  last  days.  He  had  wished 
to  get  home  to  St.  Anne’s  Hill,  where  he  thought  he  could 
breathe  more  easily.  The  physicians  considered  the  journey  im- 
possible. The  Duke  of  Devonshire  recommended  a removal  to 
his  villa  at  Chiswick,  as  a first  stage.  He  could  get  no  further, 
and  died  in  a few  days.  If  Canning  could  have  foreseen  how 
another  statesman  would,  in  an  after-time,  break  down  under  an 
opposition  like  that  which  he  had  inflicted  on  Fox  this  summer, 
and  would  move  to  the  same  house  for  air  and  repose,  and  die  in 
the  same  chamber,  the  prevision  would  have  softened  and  sob  m- 
nized  his  soul  at  once,  and  brought  him  to  instant  repentance  for 
the  most  mischievous  and  petulant  passage  of  his  life.  Little 
did  I think,” 3 said  the  King  to  Lord  Sidmouth,  “ that  I should 
ever  live  to  regret  Mr.  Fox’s  death.”  If  he  felt  so,  what  must 
have  been  the  grief  of  those  who  had  long  known  and  loved  him, 
and  who  had  expected  for  him  now  a few  years  of  crowning 

1 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  ii.  p.  431.  2 Ibid.  p.  432.  8 Ibid.  p.  435. 


188 


NEAPOLITAN  MOVEMENTS. 


[Book  I. 


glory  — a carrying  out  in  act  of  the  aims  and  aspirations  of  forty 
years  of  political  service.  During  the  few  months  of  his  recent 
official  life,  he  had  rather  lost  than  gained,  they  were  aware,  in 
reputation  as  a statesman : but  they  believed  this  to  be  owing  to 
accidental  clouds  and  temporary  difficulties ; they  believed  his 
time  was  coming,  and  gloried  already  in  the  hope  of  seeing  him 
achieve  whatever  he  had  advocated,  and  justify  all  the  enthu- 
siasm he  had  ever  excited.  And  when  the  opportunity  was  open- 
ing, the  grave  yawned  in  the  way,  and  he  was  gone.  Whether 
it  would  have  been  so  if  he  had  lived,  can  never  be  known,  and 
may  well  be  doubted ; but  it  is  impossible  not  to  feel  sympathy, 
even  now,  with  the  disappointed  — seeing,  as  we  do,  what  was  be- 
fore them  ; and,  as  for  the  grief  of  the  personal  bereavement,  there 
was  no  one,  amidst  the  bitterest  of  his  adversaries,  who  could 
affect  to  make  light  of  it.  Though  he  died  too  soon  for  those 
who  had  known  him  best  and  longest,  u he  lived  long  enough,”  1 
as  even  Lord  Malmesbury  declared,  “ to  be  regretted  by  all.” 

“ No  country,”  wrote  the  same  old  friend  of  Pitt,  “ within  the 
short  space  of  six  [eight]  months  ever  lost  two  such  able  states- 
men as  Pitt  and  Fox,  or  ever  at  a more  important  moment;  a 
loss  less  felt  at  the  instant  than  it  will  be  some  time  hence.  They 
left  no  equal  in  their  line  ; and  after  such  superiority,  the  nation 
will  not  be  contented  with  moderate  abilities.”  It  was  an  impor- 
stateofthe  tant  moment.  The  nation  had  been  thinking  for 
war*  some  time  now  that  our  way  of  being  at  war  was  a 

rather  curious  one.  It  seemed  as  if  nothing  had  been  done  since 
the  battle  of  Trafalgar.  The  war-minister,  Mr.  Windham,  held  a 
very  stern  tone  about  the  discipline  of  the  soldiery,  and  always 
spoke  very  slightingly  of  volunteers  ; but  it  did  not  appear  that 
our  forces  were  doing  anything  effectual.  In  the  preceding 
Neapolitan  winter,  just  when  the  Grenville  Ministry  was  coming 
movements.  there  had  been  some  disaster  in  the  south  of  Italy. 
A small  force  of  English  and  another  of  Russians  had  landed 
in  the  Neapolitan  territory,  compelling  the  King  of  Nap'es 
thus  to  answer  to  Napoleon  for  a breach  of  the  neutrality  he  had 
promised.  Napoleon  sent  a large  force  down  from  the  north  of 
Italy,  where  it  was  no  longer  wanted  ; and  in  a trice  the  Rus- 
sians were  sailing  away  from  the  one  coast,  and  the  British  from 
the  other  ; and  Napoleon’s  brother  Joseph  was  living  at  the  pal- 
ace, as  King  of  Naples.  The  poor  King  and  Queen,  whom 
Napoleon  hated  especially  on  account  of  their  friendship  for 
Nelson,  had  reached  Palermo  ; and  there  they  lived,  guarded 
by  the  small  British  force,  which  had  escaped  from  the  main- 
land, and  two  or  three  ships  sent  by  Lord  Collingwood,  on  their 
petition.  The  new  King  went  into  Calabria,  to  visit  his  territo* 
1 Diaries,  iv.  p.  362. 


Chap.  VIII. J 


BATTLE  OF  MAIDA. 


189 


ries  there  ; and  as  soon  as  he  had  turned  his  back  upon  Naples, 
the  British  and  Sicilians  took  Capri,  and  some  otiier  islands 
opposite  the  coast,  and  the  maritime  fortress  of  Gaeta.  The 
Calabrians  did  not  like  their  new  masters  ; and  they  rose  in 
insurrection  on  every  side.  The  warfare  was  horrible,  and  far 
from  successful  on  the  side  of  the  F rench.  The  British  in  Si- 
cily having  been,  to  a small  extent,  reinforced  from  home,  and 
placed  under  the  command  of  Sir  John  Stuart,  took  the  oppor- 
tunity to  cross  over  into  Calabria,  and  help  to  damage  the  French. 
They  landed  on  the  1st  of  July,  not  far  from  Nicastro;  the 
whole  force,  including  artillery,  not  exceeding  5000  men,  and 
one  third  of  that  number  being  foreigners  in  English  pay.  Sir 
Sidney  Smith  arrived  in  the  bay  immediately  after ; and  so  dis- 
posed his  ships  and  gunboats  as  to  facilitate  the  escape  of  the 
little  army,  in  case  of  need. 

Finding  that  the  French  General,  Regnier,  was  coming  down 
to  attack  him  in  tlie  space  (five  miles  in  width)  between  the 
mountains  and  the  sea,  Sir  John  Stuart  marched  to  meet  him, 
over  ground  cut  up  by  watercourses,  and  encumbered  by  thickets 
of  myrtle.  It  was  on  the  4th  of  July  that  the  British  found  the 
French  posted  most  advantageously  near  Maida,  from  Battle  of 
which  place  the  battle  took  its  name.1  Regnier  im-  Maida- 
prudently  left  his  position  on  a rising  ground,  where  he  had 
swamps  and  thickets  on  either  hand,  and  a broad  river  in  front ; 
and  came  down  to  meet  the  British  in  the  plain.  Probably  the 
compact  little  force  looked  very  contemptible  in  Regniers  eyes, 
as  it  advanced  across  the  plain  ; he  was  in  a hurry  to  come  down, 
with  his  6800  men,  to  beat  the  Sir  John  Stuart  who  had  beaten 
him  in  Egypt.  Since  the  Austeriitz  battle,  the  French  boast 
had  been  that  no  troops  in  Europe  could  stand  their  bayonet- 
charge.  The  British  were  now  to  answer  this  boast.  They  threw 
down  the  blankets  they  had  carried  at  their  backs  ; levelled  their 
bayonets,  and  rushed  on  with  a hurrah,  to  meet  French  veterans 
and  their  bayonet-charge  for  the  first  time  ; for  the  English  troops 
were  somewhat  raw.  The  French  gave  way  at  every  point,  and 
were  presently  completely  routed.  They  had  sustained,  as  their 
own  newspapers  said,  no  such  defeat  since  their  revolution.  They 
admitted  that  they  left  1500  killed  and  wounded  on  the  field,  while 
of  the  British  only  45  were  killed,  and  82  wounded.  The  French 
retreated,  amidst  a hostile  peasantry,  beyond  the  Apennines  ; and 
Stuart  had  the  pleasure  of  sending  home  the  news  of  the  victory  of 
Maida.  It  availed  only  to  retard  the  aggressions  of  the  French, 
whose  operations  were  certainly  thrown  back  by  it  for  a year. 
Sir  John  Stuart’s  force  was  too  small  to  drive  out  the  French  from 
Calabria ; and  it  was  presently  so  reduced  by  the  fevers  of  the  re- 
1 Despatch,  Annual  Register,  1806,  p.  591. 


190 


SEIZURE  OF  BUENOS  AYRES. 


[Book  I. 


gion  that  its  remains  had  to  be  carried  over  to  Sicily.  Before  July 
was  out,  Gaeta  surrendered  to  the  French  ; and  the  battle  of 
Maida  remained  our  single  success  in  Italy.  The  quality  of  our 
soldiers  had  been  proved,  and  the  French  had  been  impeded  and 
mortified  : this  was  all ; and  it  was  not  enough  to  raise  the  spirits 
of  the  English  nation  about  the  war.  Fox  smiled  upon  the  news 
from  his  dying  bed.  He  did  not  know  of  the  gloom  which  was 
presently  to  ensue. 

The  Cape  was  regained,  and  the  mortification  of  its  rennquish- 
The  Cape  merit  by  the  Addington  Administration  was  wiped  out. 
regained.  Sir  David  Baird  took  it  from  the  Dutch  with  ease.1 
One  more  adventure  of  our  arms  seemed  at  first  to  be  successful, 
but  ended  in  humiliation.  Admiral  Sir  Home  Popliam  took  it 
into  his  head,  without  any  authority  from  home,  to  attack  the 
Spanish  colonies  in  South  America ; and  he  induced  Sir  David 
Baird  to  let  him  have  a portion  of  the  force  which  had  recovered 
the  Cape.  With  these,  he  took  Buenos  Ayres,  and  sent  home 
Buenos  a res  ^ >000,000  dollars,  with  a circular  manifesto  to  our 
uen  s yies.  mercpanf-Sj  inviting  them  to  turn  their  attention  to  the 
land  of  gold  he  had  opened  to  them.  The  Cabinet  had  en- 
deavored to  recall  Sir  Home  Popham  before  he  had  committed 
the  country  and  himself  to  this  strange  scheme  ; but,  as  their 
orders  did  not  reach  him  in  time,2  and  as  all  seemed  to  turn  out 
well,  they  acquiesced — well  pleased  to  see  the  nation  in  good 
spirits  once  more.  But  the  British  were  almost  immediately 
driven  out  from  their  new  conquest ; and  by  the  time  that  Fox 
was  laid  in  the  grave,  our  force  on  the  South  American  coast, 
with  all  the  strength  it  had  been  able  to  draw  from  the  Cape  and 
from  home,  was  able  only  to  secure  itself  at  a post  on  the  shore, 
till  further  reinforcements  should  arrive. 

It  was  not  only  that  England  had  gained  and  done  so  little, 
during  all  this  time:  a worse  consideration  was,  that  France  had 
done  and  gained  so  much.  During  this  gloomy  autumn,  it  ap- 
peared as  if  Napoleon  was  really  destined  to  be  master  of  Europe. 

The  vacillating  conduct  of  Prussia,  up  to  the  time  of 
Hanovenb°Ut  the  battle  of  Austerlitz,  has  been  seen.  After  that 
battle,  Haugwitz,  who  had  hovered  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, concluded  a treaty  with  Napoleon,  by  one  clause  of  which 
the  Hanoverian  dominions  of  George  III.  were  to  be  given  to 
Prussia.  There  was  shame  enough  left  among  some  of  the  best 
men  in  the  Court  of  Berlin  to  make  them  suggest  that  Hanover 
shou'd  not  be  taken  possession  of  till  the  end  of  the  war  ; and 
then  only  with  the  consent  of  our  King.  In  England  the  ex- 
citement was  great,  some  joining  with  the  royal  family  in  vow- 

1 Despatch,  Annual  Register,  1806,  p.  582. 

2 Order  in  Council,  Sept.  20,  1806. 


Chap.  VIII.]  HUMILIATION  OF  PRUSSIA. 


191 


ing  that  England  should  contend  for  the  retention  of  Hanover  to 
the  last  of  her  blood  and  treasure,  and  others  thinking  that,  as 
Hanover  was  already  in  Napoleon’s  hands,  our  blood  and  treas- 
ure might  be  better  spent  in  other  objects.  The  question  was 
soon  settled,  as  far  as  Prussia  was  concerned. 

It  was  on  the  1 st  of  April  that  the  Prussian  monarch  issued 
his  patent  of  annexation  of*  the  Hanoverian  dominions  to  Prussia,1 
declaring  them  to  have  belonged  to  Napoleon  by  Humiliation 
right  of  conquest,”  and  to  have  been  transferred  to  of  Prussia. 
Prussia  “ in  consideration  of  the  cession  of  three  of  her  provinces 
to  France.”  Prussia  brought  upon  herself  by  this  act  not  only 
the  wrath  of  England,  but  the  hostility  of  Sweden  ; and  at  the 
same  time  she  found  that  France  was  encroaching  on  her  at  va- 
rious points,  instead  of  observing  the  boundary  of  the  Rhine, 
and  actually  treating  with  Mr.  Fox,  during  the  negotiations  of 
the  summer,  for  the  restitution  of  Hanover  to  George  III. 
Presently  after  she  learned  from  St.  Petersburg,  that  Napoleon 
had  hinted  to  the  Russian  Emperor  that  any  part  of  Polish 
Prussia  that  he  might  wish  for  should  be  at  his  service.  Again, 
a formidable  French  force  was  closing  round  the  Prussian  fron- 
tier : the  dwellers  on  the  frontier  made  grievous  complaints  of  the 
burden  of  their  compulsory  support  of  the  French  troops;  and, 
at  the  same  time,  one  of  those  outrages  towards  individual  liberty 
and  life  was  perpetrated  which  often  rouse  nations  to  war  more 
suddenly  and  fiercely  than  aggressions  of  a wider  scope.  A 
bookseller  of  Nuremburg,  named  Palm,  was  seized,  on  an  accu- 
sation of  issuing  a libel  against  Napoleon  in  the  form  of  a pam- 
phlet on  German  politics,  carried  to  Braunau  (which  ought  to 
have  been  quitted  by  the  French  before  this  time,  according  to 
treaty),  and  tried  and  executed  by  a court-martial.  A general 
cry  arose  throughout  the  Prussian  dominions  for  a change  of 
government;  for  that  the  alliance  with  France  formed  by  the 
present  government  was  a mere  mockery,  and  not  to  be  endured. 
While  the  change  was  preparing,  matters  grew  worse  and  worse. 
Scarcely  a day  passed  without  some  new  discovery  of  the  treach- 
ery of  the  strong  ally,  and  the  helplessness  of  the  weak  one  ; 
and  the  finishing  stroke  to  the  discouragement  of  Prussia  was 
given  by  the  discovery  of  the  real  objects  of  the  Confederacy  of 
the  Rhine,  made  public  on  the  1st  of  August.  The  confederates 
were  small  potentates  whose  dominions  lay  along  the  river.  The 
confederacy  had  been  first  thought  of  when  Napoleon  was  on 
friendly  terms  with  Prussia ; but  it  now  appeared  that  it  had 
become  his  object  to  secure  a footing  in  Germany  which  would 
enable  him  to  hold  his  ground  against  Austria  and  Russia,  witli- 
out  relying  on  Prussia.  As  soon  as  this  Confederacy  had  de- 
1 Annual  Register,  1806,  p.  676. 


192 


RECONSTRUCTION  OE  THE  CABINET.  [Book  I 


dared  its  secession,  under  the  protection  of  Napoleon,  from  the 
German  empire,  and  Francis  had  exchanged  his  title  of  Emperor 
of  Germany  for  that  of  Emperor  of  Austria,  Prussia  discovered 
how  helplessly  she  stood  in  the  midst  of  these  arrangements, 
ignominiously  exposed  to  the  mere  rapacity  of  France.  The 
members  of  the  Prussian  government  saw  at  length  that  nothing 
but  war  was  before  them ; and  they  thought  that  they  might  as 
well  carry  it  on  as  a new  set  of  men.  The  King  is  said  to  have 
been  the  last  man  in  the  government  to  be  Convinced  of  the 
necessity  of  war  with  France  : but  he  saw  it  at  last ; and  during 
the  month  of  August,  warlike  preparations  were  observed  to  be 
going  on.  A scene  of  singular  duplicity  followed.  On  the  7th 
of  September,  an  honest  man,  who  greatly  admired  Napoleon, 
was  sent  to  Paris,  to  treat  for  peace.  He,  Knobelsdorff,  was  in 
earnest : but  his  King  sent  him  merely  to  gain  time  to  levy 
forces ; and  Napoleon  knew  this.1  When  Napoleon  set  forth  on 
his  campaign,  the  innocent  Prussian  proposed  to  go  with  him  — 
not  having  any  idea  why  the  Emperor  was  going,  and  thinking 
that  they  might  carry  on  their  negotiation  by  the  way.  It  was 
the  end  of  September  before  Prussia  let  Russia  know  what  was 
about  to  happen ; and  it  must  be  another  month  therefore  before 
she  could  have  aid.  In  the  mean  time,  she  must  meet  France 
single-handed.  She  wished,  however,  for  money  from  England  ; 
and  she  humbled  herself  therefore  to  intimate  that  she  wa-  will- 
ing to  make  peace.  The  opportunity  for  recovering  Hanover 
was  seized.  Lord  Morpeth  set  out  for  the  Prussian  head-quarters 
on  the  1st  of  October,  and  arrived  there,  at  Weimar,  on  the  12th. 
The  Prussian  Ministers  did  not  think  he  could  have  been  so 
quick ; and  they  would  rather  he  had  not  arrived  till  after  the 
battle  about  to  be  fought,  which  they  thought  could  hardly  place 
them  in  a worse  position  as  to  credit,  while  a victory  might  en- 
able them  still  to  keep  Hanover.  They  actually  did  not  see 
Lord  Morpeth  till  after  the  result  of  the  battle  of  Auerstadt, 
fought  on  the  14th,  was  known.  That  battle,  and  every  other, 
was  gained  by  the  French.  The  King  of  Prussia  was  presently 
a fugitive  beyond  the  Oder,  and  Napoleon  was  sending  out  his 
orders  from  the  palace  at  Berlin,  as  he  had  done,  less  than  a 
year  before,  from  that  of  Vienna.  In  a few  weeks,  the  Prussian 
power  was  annihilated  ; and  the  forces  of  Napoleon  had  swept 
over  the  whole  of  the  north  of  Germany. 

While  Fox  was  breathing  his  last,  the  Tower  guns  were  firing 
for  the  capture  of  Buenos  Ayres.  From  that  time, 

New  arrange-  1 J 7 

ments  in  the  bad  news  poured  in  so  fast  as  to  shed  embarrassment 
Cabinet.  an(j  gloom  over  the  consultations  of  the  Cabinet  as 
to  how  to  reconstitute  itself.  What  the  difficulties  were  in  the 
1 Annual  Register,  1806,  p.  168. 


Chap.  VIII.]  DISSOLUTION  OF  PARLIAMENT. 


193 


appointment  of  office  seems  never  to  have  been  clearly  told ; but 
no  one  can  wonder  that,  among  so  strange  a diversity  of  men, 
the  greatest  of  them  being  gone,  there  could  be  little  union.  We 
find  so  much  praise  of  Lord  Ho  wick’s  moderation,  and  good  tem- 
per, and  manners,  that  we  must  suppose  that  the  more  liberal 
party  in  the  Cabinet  had  some  difficulty  in  standing  its  ground. 
Lord  Howivk  succeeded  to  Fox’s  most  arduous  office,  and  yielded 
his  own,  at  the  Admiralty,  to  Mr.  T.  Grenville.1  Lord  Holland, 
the  nephew  of  Mr.  Fox,  was  the  only  new  member  brought  in. 
He  took  Lord  Sidmouth’s  office;  and  Lord  Sidmouth  became 
President  of  the  Council,  in  the  place  of  Lord  Fitz william,  who 
went  out.  Lord  Minto,  late  Sir  Gilbert  Elliot,  became  Gov- 
ernor-General of  Bengal. 

Three  weeks  from  Mr.  Fox’s  death  were  occupied  in  prepara- 
tions for  his  funeral,  which  was  as  imposing  as  it  was  mournful. 
He  was  buried  at  Westminster  Abbey,  on  the  10th  of  October. 
Hitherto,  the  nation  had  been  divided  for  many  years,  not  so 
much  into  Tories  and  Whigs  as  into  Pittites  and  Fox-  Dissolution 
ites.  The  men  who  had  at  first  stood  as  symbols  of  of  Parties- 
principles  had  become,  as  symbols  are  apt  to  do,  idols.  The  idols 
were  broken,  and  men  must  find  out  afresh  what  their  principles 
were,  and  choose  fresh  exponents  of  them.  It  did  not  appear 
that  there  were  any  men  before  the  eyes  of  the  nation  qualified 
to  become  such  exponents,  at  present.  It  seemed  that  new  par- 
ties must  be  formed,  on  grounds  to  be  newly  explored  and  ascer- 
tained. The  broad  and  deep  middle  class  of  Great  Britain  always 
affords  a basis  and  materials  for  a great  popular  party.  It  had 
long  been  unduly  depressed,  by  a combination  of  unfavorable  in- 
fluences ; and  one  great  question  now  to  be  decided  was,  whether 
it  was  sufficiently  aware  of  the  dignity  and  soundness  of  its  per- 
manent interests  to  assert  itself  in  opposition  to  the  self-will  of 
royalty,  and  of  an  aristocracy  which  is  always  most  powerful  in 
a period  of  war.  The  leading  Ministers  considered  it  necessary, 
though  earnestly  opposed  by  the  Tory  members  of  the  Cabinet, 
and  vehemently  blamed  by  a host  of  observers  without,  to  give 
the  people  an  opportunity  of  declaring  their  minds  at  so  marked 
a crisis ; and  they  therefore  engaged  the  King  to  dis-  Dissolution  < f 
solve  parliament  on  the  25th  of  October.  These  Parliament, 
leaders  were  well  aware  that  their  popularity  had  been  declining 
ever  since  they  entered  office  ; 2 and  that,  if  seen  already  to  be 
weak,  they  might  be  regarded  as  contemptible  now  that  Mr.  Fox 
was  gone.  They  might  risk  everything  by  calling  a new  parlia- 
ment. But  it  was  essential  to  their  self-respect,  and  their  confi- 
dence in  office,  that  the  opinion  of  the  people  in  regard  to  them 
should  be  pronounced,  and  that  the  policy  of  the  coming  period 

1 Annual  Register,  1808,  p.  262.  2 ibid.  p.  451. 

VOL.  I.  . 13 


194 


NEW  PARLIAMENT  CALLED. 


[Book  I. 


should  be  indicated  by  the  nation  before  it  was  prosecuted  by 
themselves.  So,  though  the  King  frowned,  and  Lord  Sidmouth 
shook  his  head,  and  Mr.  Wilberforce  owned  himself  shocked,  and 
a host  of  Liberals  doubted  and  wondered,  Lord  Grenville  decided 
that  a new  parliament  should  meet  on  the  15th  of  December. 


Chap.  IX.  1 


STRENGTH  OF  THE  CABINET. 


195 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  elections  seemed  to  settle  the  point  of  the  further  pro- 
bation of  the  Grenville  Ministry.  They  had  so  large  a major- 
ity that  the  Opposition  were  quite  disheartened.  We  strength  of 
find  Lord  Eldon  growing  very  angry  at  this  discour-  the  Cabinet* 
agement,  and  telling  his  Tory  friends  that  all  good  people  hate 
coalitions  ; and  that,  if  the  Opposition  would  even  now  take  for 
their  ground  the  coalition  of  the  Grenvilles  and  Foxites,  they 
would  find  themselves  supported  by  all  the  virtue  of  the  country. 
He  complained  bitterly  of  the  whole  Tory  party,  from  the  King 
himself  to  Mr.  Canning,  for  their  guilty  supineness.  He  pitied 
his  sovereign  for  the  ignorance  of  his  value,  shown  in  not  making 
him  Chancellor  again  ; ascribed  this  desertion  of  his  old  servants 
by  the  King  to  his  age,  his  blindness,  his  being  surrounded  by 
evil  domestic  influences,  and  his  wish  to  avoid  those  who  had  seen 
him  in  his  fits  of  insanity.  “ The  King’s  conduct,”  he  concludes, 
u does  not  astonish  me,  though  I think  it  has  destroyed  him.”  1 
It  is  amusing,  after  this,  to  read  the  protestations  made  by  Lord 
Eldon,  only  three  months  later,  of  the  perfect  vigor  of  the 
King’s  understanding,  and  the  noble  independence  of  his  action. 
As  for  the  Opposition,  Lord  Eldon  says  he  could  never  induce 
them  to  form  any  plan,  to  agree  upon  any  system  ; and  thus  they 
only  railed  at  the  Administration,  without  overthrowing  it.  This 
was  precisely  the  complaint  of  the  best  men  of  the  liberal  party, 
who  cared  more  about  seeing  the  country  well  governed  than 
about  maintaining  any  particular  set  of  men  in  power.  “ I look 
upon  it  as  a serious  misfortune  to  the  country,”  wrote  Francis 
Horner,2  on  the  opening  of  the  new  parliament,  u that  it  is  for  the 
present  deprived  of  that  very  important  part  of  our  political 
system  — a party  arrayed  against  the  Ministers,  for  the  purposes 
of  popular  vigilance  and  inquisition,  upon  fixed  and  assignable 
principles.”  Thus  the  machinery  for  governing,  during  this  im- 
portant period  of  probation,  consisted  of  a reluctant  sovereign, 
supported  by  a carping  family  and  Court ; an  ill-compacted  Cabi- 
net, sufficiently  supported  as  to  numbers  in  parliament,  but  abun- 
dantly thwarted  and  censured  there,  without  any  Opposition 
which  could  bring  their  principles  of  government  to  any  satisfac- 
1 Life  of  Lord  Eldon,  ii.  p.  11.  2 Memoirs,  i.  p.  386. 


196 


LORD  HO  WICK.  — CANNING. 


[Book  I. 


tory  test.  As  for  the  most  vexatious  member  of  Opposition, 
Mr.  Canning,  Lord  Eldon  was  more  angry  with  him  by  far  than 
Lord  Grenville  was  ; for  Canning  was  already  showing  a power 
of  progression  which  isolated  him  from  all  but  the  few  true  Pitt- 
ites who  remained  connected  with  public  affairs.  During  this 
November,  Lord  Grenville  made  liberal  offers  to  Mr.  Canning 
of  office  for  himself  and  three  or  four  supporters  : 1 Mr.  Canning 
refused  them  ; but  Lord  Eldon  could  not  forgive  him  for  having 
been  so  sought.  He  said  that  Lord  Grenville  was  flattering  the 
vanity  of  the  youngster,  and  pretending  to  make  him  of  conse- 
quence ; and  he  held  up  Canning  to  the  distrust  of  all  good  To- 
ries. Lord  Wellesley  was  the  negotiator  between  Lord  Gren- 
ville and  Canning.  His  own  position  was  a strange  one.  An 
impeachment  was  hanging  over  him,  which  had  been  desired  and 
supported  by  some  members  of  Lord  Grenville’s  Cabinet,  and 
had  been  deferred  only  because  the  requisite  information  could 
not  be  obtained  before  the  close  of  the  session ; and  the  time 
was  coming  when  the  government  of  the  country  was  to  be  offered 
to  him.  While  he  was  thus  standing  unconsciously  between 
threatened  ignominy  on  the  one  hand,  and  proffered  honor  on  the 
other,  he  was  laboring  to  recruit  a partially  hostile  Cabinet  from 
the  noisiest  part  of  the  Opposition. 

For  once,  parliament  was  not  allowed  the  usual  Christmas 
No  Christ-  recess.  The  failure  of  the  negotiations  for  peace,  and 
mas  recess,  the  state  of  the  war  on  the  Continent,  were  pressing 
for  consideration  ; and  the  new  parliament,  which  met  on  the 
15th  of  December,  continued  its  sittings  almost  from  day  to  day. 
Mr.  Abbott  was  again  chosen  Speaker ; 2 and  the  Royal  Speech 
was  communicated  by  Commission,  — the  principal  topic  being 
the  failure  of  the  negotiation  with  France.  — Lord  Ho  wick’s 
T , TT  . . speech  on  the  Address  was  considered  by  friends  and 
foes  the  best  he  had  ever  made.  It  is  interesting  now 
to  look  back  upon  the  manifestations,  during  that  year,  of  the 
ability  of  various  kinds  in  various  men,  which  was  afterwards 
to  have  so  much  influence  over  the  affairs  of  the  world.  Lord 
Howick  was  not  very  young  in  years  ; but  he  was  in  power  ; and 
now  he  began  to  manifest,  to  the  admiration  of  his  opponents, 
the  loftiness  of  principle  and  sentiment  which  enabled  him  to  hold 

Mr  Canning  ^ie  same  t°ne  Power  as  m Opposition.  — Mr.  Can- 
ning’s speech  in  reading  an  amendment  which  he  did  not 
move  was  pronounced  on  all  hands  very  able.  Some  objected  to 
its  tone  of  personal  assertion,  which  looked  like  a desire  “ to  fix 
himself  in  the  throne  of  Opposition.”  Those  who  uttered  the 
objection  were  probably  unaware  of  the  recent  offers  made  to 
him,  which  rendered  his  present  self-assertion  necessary.  — Mr. 

1 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  362.  2 Hansard,  viii.  p.  16. 


OTHER  RISING  MEN. 


Chap.  IX.] 


197 


Perceval,  of  whom  little  had  been  heard  before,  except  in  his  char- 
acter of  a violent  partisan  Attorney- General,  in  Pitt’s  Mr  Perceval 
last  administration,  was  now  coming  out  in  a charac- 
ter of  his  own  — as  an  enemy  to  all  relaxation  of  religious  tests. 
From  this  time  his  rigid,  narrow  mind,  honest  and  unphilosophi- 
cal ; his  temper,  amiable  towards  friends,  and  bitter  and  arrogant 
towards  opponents  ; his  manners,  simple  and  affectionate  to  his 
connections,  and  ludicrously  presumptuous  and  offensive  to  all 
persons  whom  he  considered  heterodox,  — these  qualities  were 
now  beginning  to  be  conspicuous  in  the  man  whom  nature  never 
intended  to  be  conspicuous,  but  who,  by  one  of  those  apparent 
mistakes  of  fate  which  make  statesmen  of  very  small  personages, 
was  soon  to  be  at  the  head  of  affairs  for  a series  of  years.  — In 
this  same  year,  on  occasion  of  Lord  Melville’s  trial,  sir  Samuel 
Romilly  made  what  was  called  at  the  time  his  first  pub-  Romilly- 
lie  appearance.  His  function  as  Solicitor- General  drew  all  eyes 
upon  him ; and  no  doubt  afterwards  existed  anywhere  as  to  what 
his  goodness  was,  and  what  his  greatness  ought  to  be.  By  some 
few  he  had  long  been  affectionately  revered ; he  was  now  to  be 
the  dread  of  the  oppressor,  and  the  hope  of  the  pure  and  the  merci- 
ful in  heart.  — Another  man  entered  parliament  this  session  from 
whom  great  things  were  expected,  and  who  lived  just  long  enough 
to  show  that  such  expectation  could  hardly  have  been  exaggerated. 
Francis  Horner  now  took  his  seat  for  St.  Ives.  Dur-  Francis  Hor- 
ing  this  short  session,  he  did  not  prove  his  quality  to  ner- 
strangers,  speaking  only  twice,  very  shortly,  and  modestly  watch- 
ing, instead  of  aiding,  the  discussion  of  the  great  questions  of  the 
time.  But  he  was  there,  with  his  high  integrity  and  intelligence, 
ready  to  aid  every  good  cause  when  the  time  should  come.  — On 
this  occasion  William  Lamb  was  one  of  the  striking  Hon.  Wm. 
novelties.  He  moved  the  Address  in  the  Commons  ; Lamb- 
and  it  was  agreed  that  whatever  his  abilities  might  prove  to  be, 
he  had  the  most  impressive  manner  and  voice  of  any  man  yet 
known  in  the  House.  Such  was  the  judgment  pronounced  on 
the  future  Melbourne  1 — the  fourth  future  Prime  Minister  in 
this  short  list  of  rising  men.  — Another  young  man  was  there 
who  was  to  make  a brilliant  manifestation  of  his  powers  before 
the  end  of  the  short  session,  and  to  raise  and  justify  new  hopes 
during  a series  of  years,  and  show  what  he  could  do  in  office,  and 
then  sink  into  insanity  and  death.  J.  W.  Ward,  af-  non.  j.  w. 
ter  wards  Earl  of  Dudley,  sat  among  a few  friends  who  Ward- 
promised  deep  for  him,  but  were  soon  almost  ashamed  not  to 
have  engaged  for  much  more.  — The  young  Lord  Palm-  Lord  Palm- 
erston was  there.  “ He  is  but  a lad,’’  some  one  had  ersfcon- 
just  written  of  him  to  Wilberforce ; but  his  opinions  were  never- 
1 Memoirs  of  Horner,  i.  p.  386. 


198 


MILITARY  AFFAIRS. 


[Book  I 


theless  speculated  upon  with  interest.  He  was  clever  ; and  evi- 
dently resolved  to  devote  his  abilities  to  political  life.  He  is  rep- 
resented as  having  been  in  those  days  serious  and  modest ; and  if 
this  was  true,  he  deserved  the  interest  he  excited.  He  had  failed 
in  the  contest  for  Cambridge  University,  against  Lord  Henry 
Petty,  on  the  coming  in  of  the  Grenville  Ministry  ; and  his  fail- 
ure was  supposed  to  be  mainly  owing  to  his  mode.-t  and  consci- 
entious diffidence  in  declaring  himself  on  the  Slave-trade  ques- 
tion, by  which  he  was  imagined  not  to  be  an  abolitionist,  while 
he  in  fact  was  one.  Young  as  he  was,  he  was  now  on  the  eve 
of  office.  It  is  interesting  to  look  back  on  this  his  first  crossing 
of  the  threshold  of  the  House,  where  his  voice  is  now,  in  his  old 
age,  still  heard  — as  vigorous  as  ever.  It  was  not  long  subdued 
by  diffidence  and  modesty ; and  his  ability  was  not  of  a kind  to 
grow  old,  any  more  than  to  grow  great  and  noble.  Of  all  kinds 
of  ability,  ingenuity  is  perhaps  the  least  likely  to  expand  into 
genius,  or  to  exhaust  itself  with  years.  While  one  after  another 
of  the  rising  statesmen  of  his  youth  has  sunk  under  the  weight 
of  political  care  — sunk  into  madness,  suicide,  induced  disease, 
and  premature  death  — Lord  Palmerston  remains  the  last,  appar- 
ently as  easy  as  he  once  was  diffident,  and  far  more  gay  and  boy- 
ish, it  would  seem,  than  when,  as  “ a lad,”  he  took  his  seat  in  the 
great  Council  of  the  nation  at  Christmas,  1806. 

The  condition  and  conduct  of  military  affairs,  and  the  state 
Military  de-  of  the  finances,  were  the  most  prominent  subjects  of 
partment.  interest  on  the  meeting  of  the  new  parliament.  The 
differences  of  opinion  about  the  character  of  the  best  military 
defence  were  as  broad  and  deep  as  ever.  Some  leaders  still  be- 
lieved that  volunteering  should  be  discouraged,  and  the  army 
made  a state  machine,  — the  military  defence  of  the  State  being 
wholly  separated  from  its  political  life  ; while  others  dreaded  the 
extinction  of  political  life  in  the  process,  and  the  crushing  of  pop- 
ular liberties  under  the  state  machine  of  a separate  military 
organization.  These  believed  that  if  national  institutions  were 
rendered  valuable,  and  if  citizens  were  trained  to  value  them, 
there  could  be  little  doubt  or  difficulty  about  their  adequate  de- 
fence ; while  nothing  could  be  so  fatal  to  the  hope  of  national  wel- 
fare and  even  of  national  existence,  as  the  practice  of  deputing  to 
an  uninterested  hireling  force  the  preservation  of  what  every  man 
should  feel  personal  solicitude  in  preserving.  It  was  the  implica- 
tion of  this  principle  in  the  opposite  methods  of  military  policy 
that  gave  the  interest  to  the  researches  and  debates  of  this  win- 
ter. Very  opposite  stories  were  told  at  the  time  ; but  there  was 
soon  no  doubt  whatever  that  the  new  policy  of  enlisting  for 
terms  of  years,  and  of  improving  in  other  respects  the  condition 
and  prospects  of  the  soldiery,  was  working  well.  A greater 


Chap.  IX.] 


EXPOSURE  OF  FRAUDS. 


199 


number  of  recruits,  of  a higher  order,  and  at  a lower  bounty, 
was  raised  than  under  the  old  method ; and  desertion  was  dimin- 
ishing, month  by  month.  — Results  now  began  to  appear  from 
the  inquiry  into  military  administration  ordered  in  Mr.  Pitt’s 
time.  Abuses  which  might  match  with  those  in  the  navy  were 
brought  to  light.  Some  friends  of  the  Grenville  ministry  would 
have  had  them  conciliate  the  King  and  the  Duke  of  York  by 
letting  this  subject  drop ; but  the  best  and  bravest  of  the  cabinet 
would  not  consent  to  this,  though  they  did  not  follow  up  the  in- 
quiry with  all  the  spirit  they  had  shown  in  Opposition.  A mag- 
nificent army  contractor,  named  Davison,1  a banker,  and  colonel 
of  a regiment  of  volunteers,  had  been  for  some  time  living  in 
prodigious  style,  buying  estates,  pictures,  and  wines,  and  giving 
dinners  which  the  Prince  of  Wales  and  his  brothers  honored 
with  their  presence  ; and  the  poor  soldiers  had  been  all  the  while 
shivering  with  cold  in  their  sordid  barrack-rooms  ; their  coals 
having  gone  to  light  Davison’s  fires,  and  their  blankets  to  thicken 
his  carpets.  He  was  found  to  have  pocketed  30/.  in  every  100/. 
charged  for  coals,  on  the  mere  stated  prices,  besides  having 
bought  his  coals  in  summer  when  they  were  cheap,  and  sold  them 
in  winter  when  they  were  dear.  He  was  made  to  disgorge  a 
large  portion  of  his  wealth,  and  to  refund  upwards  of  18,000/. 
on  his  commission  alone ; and  he  was  imprisoned  in  Newgate. 
The  abuse  charged  against  Lord  Melville  and  his  underline-  — 
of  using  large  sums  (in  this  case  amounting  to  millions)  of  the 
public  money  for  intervals  of  time  without  interest  — was  proved 
to  have  reached  an  enormous  height  in  the  military  department ; 
gross  frauds  of  various  kinds  were  exposed : and  the  exposure 
did  some  good;  but  it  was  extremely  difficult  to  establish  a bet- 
ter system.  Men  of  family  and  of  fashion,  who  did  not  know 
how  to  take  care  of  themselves,  and  to  maintain  their  station, 
otherwise  than  by  holding  offices  which  they  turned  over  to  dep- 
uties, were  placed  in  positions  of  trust  which  should  have  been 
filled  by  men  of  business,  and  the  mischiefs  of  such  a system  of 
appointment  could  not  be  undone  or  guarded  against  in  a day.  — 
As  for  the  actual  force  of  the  country,  when  all  deduc-  Force  of  the 
tions  were  made  from  Mr.  Windham’s  calculations  country. 
which  the  keen  sight  of  party  spirit  could  exhibit  grounds  for, 
there  remained  a vast  disposable  force.  Fifty  thousand  men 
could  at  any  time  be  furnished  for  any  great  continental  expedi- 
tion. Long  lines  of  martello  towers  were  still  built  along  our 
coasts,  though  many  people  felt  that  the  battle  of  Trafalgar  had 
secured  us  from  all  danger  of  invasion,  and  though  a patriot  poet 
was  teaching  us  to  sing  — 


1 Annual  Register,  1807,  p.  101. 


200 


' FINANCIAL  DIFFICULTIES. 


[Book  I 


11  Britannia  needs  no  bulwarks, 

No  towers  along  the  steep; 

Her  march  is  on  the  mountain  wave, 

Her  home  is  on  the  deep.” 

The  idea  of  fortifying  ourselves  at  home  seems  still  to  have  been 
the  prominent  one  ; and  the  new  ordnance  grants  were  expended 
on  such  projects ; but  our  means  of  aggression,  or  rather  of  de- 
fence on  foreign  soil,  were  on  the  increase ; and  the  peace-min- 
istry of  Lord  Grenville  made  a very  creditable  appearance  in 
parliament  at  the  beginning  of  1807. 

It  was  understood  that  a grand  new  financial  scheme  was  to  be 
Financial  brought  forward  early  in  the  session ; 1 and  as  soon  as 
scheme.  the  debate  on  the  peace  negotiation  was  finished,  Lord 
Henry  Petty  explained  what  the  scheme  was.  It  was  Lord 
Grenville’s  plan ; and  it  only  showed  that  he  and  his  Chancellor 
of  the  Exchequer  knew  no  more  of  finance  than  most  other  men 
in  parliament.  It  had  been  thought  before  the  Peace  of  Amiens, 
that  taxation  had  been  carried  as  far  as  it  could  go  ; and  it  did 
appear  as  if  no  more  articles  remained  to  be  taxed,  and  that  the 
only  thing  to  be  done  wras  to  increase  the  existing  imposts.  The 
sum  paid  into  the  Exchequer  in  1801,  as  the  entire  produce  of 
the  taxes,  was  a little  more  than  34,000,000/. ; while  in  1806,  it 
had  been  nearly  56,000,000/.  As  there  must  be  some  limit  to 
the  application  of  this  method,  the  present  ministers  devised  a 
new  Sinking  F und,  which  they  unaccountably  fancied  would  work 
to  the  extinction  of  debt.  The  old  sinking  fund  was  nominally 
in  operation;  but,  since  1792,  the  Commissioners  of  the  Debt 
had  been  borrowing  with  one  hand  while  paying  with  the  other — 
creating  new  debt  in  order  to  extinguish  the  old.  In  a sort  of 
imitation  of  this,  the  war  expenditure  beyond  the  amount  of  the 
taxes  — that  is,  about  1 1,000,000/.  per  annum  — was  to  be  met  by 
a system  of  borrowing,  with  scarcely  any  aid  from  taxation.  The 
fallacy  lay  in  that  word  “ scarcely.”  As  nothing  could  come  out 
of  nothing,  this  11,000,000/.  must  come  out  of  something;  and 
the  ministerial  mistake  was  in  supposing  that  that  something 
might,  by  twisting  and  turning,  be  reduced  to  an  amount  exceed- 
ingly small.  The  plan  was  to  raise  the  money  by  loan  ; 2 to  set 
apart  from  it,  with  help  from  the  war  taxes,  an  amount  equal  to 
a tenth  of  it,  of  which  half  (or  5 per  cent.)  would  pay  interest 
and  cost  of  management,  while  the  other  5 per  cent,  would  form 
a sinking  fund  which  would,  in  fourteen  years,  pay  off  the  princi- 
pal. The  amount  drawn  from  the  war  taxes  was,  of  course,  taken 
from  the  revenue  of  the  year,  though  it  was  called  a mortgage 
on  those  taxes  ; and  the  call  for  it  had  to  be  met  somehow.  It 
was  to  be  met  by  a supplementary  loan;  wiiich  again  was  to  be 

1 Hansard,  viii.  pp.  564-597. 

2 Official  Paper,  Annual  Register,  1807,  p.  620. 


Chap.  IX.]  ABOLITION  OF  THE  SLAVE-TRADE. 


201 


extinguished  by  a sinking  fund  of  1 per  cent.  This  1 per  cent., 
and  the  interest  of  the  supplementary  loan,  were  to  be  met  some- 
how ; and  that  somehow  was  to  be  by  new  taxes.  The  plan  went 
out  with  its  authors  ; and  there  is,  therefore,  no  need  to  dwell  on 
it  further ; but  there  were  more  able  financiers  than  Lord  Gren- 
ville and  his  young  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  who  explained 
at  the  time  that  there  would  be  waste,  instead  of  economy,1  in  the 
twistings  and  turnings  of  the  plan ; and  that  at  the  end  of  the 
fourteen  years,  the  nation  would  have  been  some  millions  the 
worse  for  the  money  not  having  been  raised  in  a direct  manner 
by  taxation.  The  payment  of  interest,  and  of  postponed,  which 
is  always  compound,  interest ; and  the  having  finally  to  pay  in  a 
time  of  peace  when  the  funds  are  high,  money  borrowed  when 
the  funds  were  low,  would  be  ultimately  so  much  additional  bur- 
den to  the  nation.  The  consequences  of  the  heavy  taxation 
which  had  now  gone  on  for  many  years  were  cruelly  felt,  and 
were  visible,  we  are  told,2  to  the  traveller  passing  along  the  roads 
and  through  the  villages  of  our  islands.  Wages  were  nominally 
high,  and  still  rising ; but  prices,  though  fluctuating,  were  on  the 
whole  rising  in  a greater  proportion  than  wages.  Pauperism  was 
on  the  increase  ; and  the  burden  of  the  poor-rates  grew  heavier 
at  the  same  time  with  every  other  kind  of  taxation.  It  was  ob- 
vious at  a glance  that  the  working  classes  were  less  well  clothed, 
and  more  anxious  and  moody ; their  places  of  recreation  were 
closed  or  deserted ; and  those  who  returned  to  any  familiar  place 
after  an  absence  of  a few  years,  found  pale  and  grave  faces  by 
the  wayside,  and  missed  the  old  cheerfulness  and  mirth.  There 
was  little  yet  of  the  intolerable  misery  which  w^as  to  come  in  a 
few  years  more ; but  the  decline  in  the  popular  condition  which 
is  a necessary  consequence  of  a protracted  war  was  now  dis- 
tinctly recognized  ; and  sinking  funds  were  tending  rather  to  sink 
the  tax-payers  than  the  debts  of  the  country.  In  such  a state 
of  things,  the  Grenville  ministry  gained  and  deserved  no  credit  as 
financiers.  Lord  Henry  Petty  was  thoroughly  in  earnest  in  his 
advocacy  of  his  scheme,  and  presented  it  very  powerfully ; but 
it  would  not  bear  examination  beyond  the  walls  of  parliament. 

We  have  seen  that  Parliament  stood  pledged  to  abolish  tie 
Slave-trade  at  the  earliest  opportunity.  It  was  now  Abolition  of 
done,  as  far  as  Parliament  could  do  it.  On  the  2d  of  the  siave- 
January,  Lord  Grenville  brought  in  the  promised  Bill  trade‘ 
for  the  Abolition  of  the  Slave-trade.  The  King’s  sons  immediate- 
ly exerted  themselves  to  canvass  against  it.  Lord  Eldon  pro- 
nounced it  impracticable,  because  abolition  of  the  African  trade 
would  bring  after  it  a demand  for  abolition  in  the  West  Indies. 

1 Hamilton’s  Inquiry  into  the  National  Debt. 

2 Annual  Register,  i.807,  p.  106. 


202 


THE  KING'S  SONS 


/Book  I 


All  the  old  objections  were  renewed ; and  with  the  more  irgency 
as  the  crisis  drew  near.  The  pledged  zeal  of  the  Prime  Minister 
might  be  thought  to  settle  the  matter.  But  his  Bill  could  not  be 
considered  safe  while  some  members  of  his  Cabinet  were  opposed 
to  it ; and  we  find  Lord  Sidmouth  on  this  occasion  proposing,1 
not  to  cease  stealing  men  and  women,  but  to  build  churches  for 
the  stolen  people,  and  teach  them  the  Christian  religion,  as  held 
by  their  ravishers ; and  to  let  them  marry  in  the  land  of  bondage, 
after  having  snatched  them  from  their  natural  homes,  in  their  own 
The  Princes  country*  The  “ young  Duke  of  Gloucester,”  as  he  was 
then  called  by  the  veterans  in  the  cause,  saw  the  im- 
pious folly  of  this  trifling ; 2 and  he  told,  simply  and  briefly,  what 
he  had  seen  of  the  trade  and  its  consequences.  His  cousins,  the 
Dukes  of  Clarence  and  Sussex,3  came  forward  as  the  spokesmen  of 
their  family  on  the  question ; and  a miserable  exhibition  it  was. 
Men’s  hearts  might  well  fail  them  when  they  saw  such  an  opening 
of  the  political  life  of  the  King’s  sons ; when  they  saw  how  meagre 
was  the  intellect,  and  how  sordid  the  sentiment,  brought  to  bear 
on  a question  which  could  not  but  elicit  the  generosity  of  youth 
and  the  magnanimity  of  high  station,  if  such  generosity  and  mag- 
nanimity had  been  there.  But  whatever  ardor  there  was,  was 
on  behalf  of  the  traders  and  planters ; and  if  there  was  indigna- 
tion, it  was  at  the  idea  that  France  might  profit  by  our  rectitude 
and  humanity.  These  manifestations,  and  the  sly  and  yet  boast- 
ful activity  of  the  Dukes  of  York  and  Cumberland  in  helping  to 
overthrow  the  Administration,  are  the  first  scenes  in  the  political 
life  of  the  King’s  younger  sons.  What  the  position  and  conduct 
of  the  eldest  were,  we  have  seen.  The  best  men  perceived  the 
least  to  hope  for  from  the  royal  family.  The  sentiment  of  the 
country  and  of  parliament  was  now,  however,  too  strong  for  even 
royal  upholders  of  the  traffic  in  slaves.  In  the  morning  of  the 
decisive  day  in  the  Lords,  Mr.  Wilberforce  and  Lord  Grenville 
counted  above  seventy  peers  on  whose  votes  they  might  surely 
reckon.  The  Minister’s  stately  mind  and  manners  relaxed  into 
a mood  positively  genial ; and  he,  for  once,  let  men  see  that  he 
could  feel  the  glow  of  hope  and  the  bliss  of  aspiration,  like  other 
men.  His  speeches  towards  the  conclusion  of  this  great  contro- 
versy are  as  ardent  as  his  friend  Fox  could  well  have  made.  He 
was  not  too  sanguine.  At  five  in  the  morning  of  the  6th  of  Feb- 
ruary, the  decisive  vote  was  taken,  when  the  Bill  was  supported 
by  a majority  of  100  to  36.4  Lord  St.  Vincent,  who  held  with 
his  lost  friend,  Nelson,  that  Abolition  of  the  Slave-trade  was  a 
“ damnable  and  cursed  doctrine,”  held  only  by  hypocrites,  entered 
his  solemn  and  final  protest  against  this  measure  of  national  ruin, 

2 Ibid.  p.  665. 

4 Ibid.  viii.  p.  672. 


1 Hansard,  viii.  p.  668. 

8 Ibid.  viii.  pp.  664,  683 ; iii.  p.  235. 


Chap.  IX.]  SPEECH  OF  SOLICITOR-GENERAL.  203 

and  walked  out  of  the  House.1  Not  the  less  did  the  Bill  pass  its 
third  reading  without  opposition. 

Counsel  had  been  heard  on  behalf  of  the  Planters  ; and  the 
same  aid  was  granted  them  in  the  Commons.  Most  people  consid- 
ered the  question  now  carried ; but  Wilberforce  found  still  “ a ter- 
rific list  of  doubtfuls,”  though  many  “ West  Indians  ” were  with 
him.  When  the  debates  came  on,  it  was  found  that  the  old  apa- 
thy was  all  gone.  The  young  noblemen  in  the  Commons,  and  oth- 
ers, were  as  eager  to  speak  on  the  side  of  “justice  and  humanity  ” 
as  any  representatives  of  the  planters  to  plead  against  the  inser- 
tion of  those  words  in  the  preamble  of  the  Bill.  Half  a dozen  at 
a time  started  up,  to  show  that  the  slave-trade  was  incompatible 
with  justice  and  humanity.  The  decisive  vote  was  taken  on  the 
23d  of  February,  when  the  House  seems  to  have  been  wrought 
up  to  a high  pitch  of  excitement.  When  the  Solicitor- General, 
Romilly,  concluded  his  speech,  the  members  broke  through  all 
rule,  and  burst  into  loud  acclamation.  The  passage  which  roused 
the  enthusiasm  was  this : 2 “ When  he  looked  to  the  man  at  the 
head  of  the  French  monarchy,  surrounded  as  he  was  with  all  the 
pomp  of  power,  and  all  the  pride  of  victory,  distributing  kingdoms 
to  his  family,  and  principalities  to  his  followers,  seeming,  when 
he  sat  upon  his  throne,  to  have  reached  the  summit  of  human 
ambition,  and  the  pinnacle  of  earthly  happiness ; and  when  he 
followed  that  man  into  his  closet  or  to  his  bed,  and  considered  the 
pangs  with  which  his  solitude  must  be  tortured,  and  his  repose 
banished,  by  the  recollection  of  the  blood  he  had  spilled,  and  the 
oppressions  he  had  committed ; and  when  he  compared  with 
those  pangs  of  remorse  the  feelings  which  must  accompany  his 
honorable  friend  (Mr.  Wilberforce)  from  that  house  to  his  home, 
after  the  vote  of  that  night  should  have  confirmed  the  object  of 
his  humane  and  unceasing  labors ; when  he  should  retire  into  the 
bosom  of  his  happy  and  delighted  family,  when  he  should  lay 
himself  down  on  his  bed,  reflecting  on  the  innumerable  voices 
that  would  be  raised  in  every  quarter  of  the  world  to  bless  him ; 
how  much  more  pure  and  permanent  felicity  must  he  enjoy,  in 
the  consciousness  of  having  preserved  so  many  millions  of  his 
fellow-creatures,  than  the  man  with  whom  he  had  compared  him, 
on  the  throne  to  which  he  had  waded  through  slaughter  and  op- 
pression ! ” It  is  easily  understood  how,  at  that  moment  of  our 
history,  this  passage  must  have  met  the  sentiment  of  the  hearers. 
It  was  not  the  time  for  them  to  see  that  the  measure  before  them 
could  not  achieve  the  intended  good ; nor  could  it  be  expected 
that  even  the  just  and  candid  Romilly  should  suppose  Napoleon 
capable  of  any  views  beyond  those  of  the  grossest  personal  ambi- 
tion, or  that  he  could  mingle  any  higher  ideas  with  those  of  a 
1 Hansard,  viii.  p.  693.  2 Ibid.  p.  978. 


204 


LAST  ACT  OF  THE  ADMINISTRATION.  [Book  L 


crown  and  a wide  territory.  If  time  has  opened  a somewhat 
broader  and  deeper  view  to  us,  we  can  yet  sympathize  with  the 
virtuous  triumphs  of  that  night.  The  vote  was  283  to  16.1  Sev- 
eral comrades  went  home  with  Wilberforce  after  the  House  was 
up.  “ Well,  Henry,”  said  he  to  his  friend  Thornton,  “ what  shall 
we  abolish  next  ? ” 2 “ The  lottery,  I think,”  was  the  answer. 

William  Smith  said,  “ Let  us  make  out  the  names  of  these  sixteen 
miscreants.  I have  four  of  them.”  “ Never  mind,”  said  Wilber- 
force, who  was  kneeling  on  one  knee  at  the  table,  writing  a note, 
and  looking  up  as  he  spoke.  “ Never  mind  the  miserable  sixteen, 
let  us  think  of  our  glorious  283.”  This  was  a happy  hour ; and 
so  was  that  in  which  Lord  Grenville,  next  day,  wrote  to  Wil- 
berforce, on  hearing  of  the  decisive  vote.  “ I really  feel  quite 
overpowered  with  the  thoughts  of  this  success,”  wrote  “ that 
proud  man,”  from  whom  Pitt  could  not  draw  such  expressions 
of  feeling.  Yet  all  was  not  safe,  even  now.  It  was  judged  best 
to  give  up  the  declaration  in  the  preamble  that  the  slave-trade 
was  contrary  to  justice  and  humanity,  though  the  condemnation 
in  terms  remained  sufficiently  strong.  The  third  reading  took 
place  on  the  16th  of  March ; and  on  the  18th,  the  Bill  was  car- 
ried up  to  the  Lords.  By  that  time,  it  was  well  known  that  the 
Grenville  Ministry  was  out,  or  on  the  point  of  being  so ; and 
there  seemed  too  much  reason  to  fear  that  the  measure  would  fall 
to  the  ground,  after  all,  between  two  Ministries  — so  zealous  as 
the  Princes  and  the  India  planters  took  occasion  to  show  them- 
selves. But  Mr.  Perceval  was  on  the  side  of  the  abolitionists ; 
and  even  Lord  Eldon  thought  the  matter  had  gone  too  far  to  be 
decently  stopped.3  And  the  departing  Ministers  were  anxious  for 
the  honor  of  this  Bill  becoming  law  during  their  term  of  office. 
On  the  23d,  the  amendments  of  the  Commons  (chiefly  consisting 
of  a declaration  of  penalties  on  the  infringement  of  the  Act) 4 
were  considered  in  the  Lords  ; and  Lord  Westmoreland  offered 
his  final  protest,  in  vain.  “Our  existence  depended  on  the 
strength  of  our  navy,”  he  said  ; “ and  the  strength  of  our  navy 
was  chiefly  derived  from  the  slave-trade.”  Nevertheless,  the 
trade  was  finally  condemned  and  prohibited  ; 5 Lord  Grenville  rose 
once  more,  and  “ congratulated  the  House  on  having  now  per- 
formed one  of  the  most  glorious  acts  that  had  ever  been  done  by 
any  assembly  of  any  nation  in  the  world.”  It  was  the  last  Act  of 
the  Grenville  Administration  ; of  the  last  Whig  Administration 
Bill  becomes  for  nearly  a quarter  of  a century.  The  Poyal  Assent 
law-  was  given  on  the  25th  of  March6  — the  day  on  which 

the  Ministers  delivered  up  the  seals. 


1 Hansard,  viii.  p.  995. 

8 Life  of  YVilberforce,  iii.  p.  301. 

6 Ibid.  p.  170. 


2 Life,  iii.  p.  298. 

4 Hansard,  ix  p.  169. 
6 Ibid.  p.  18* 


Chap.  IX.] 


THE  CATHOLICS  AGAIN. 


205 


Among  the  many  difficulties  caused  to  Ministers  by  the  death 
of  Mr.  Fox,  the  greatest  was  the  temper  and  condition  of  Ireland. 
While  Mr.  Fox  lived,  the  Catholics  knew  that  the  best  would  be 
done  for  them  that  circumstances  would  admit  of;  and  under  the 
rule  of  the  Duke  of  Bedford,  the  present  Viceroy,  employment 
and  honor  were  given  impartially  to  Catholics  and  TheCatho- 
Protestants,  so  far  as  the  law  allowed.  The  propitia-  lics- 
tory  effect  of  such  a method  of  ruling  had  been  shown  in  the 
success  of  the  Viceroy  in  putting  down  (as  has  been  mentioned 
before)  the  insurrection  of  “ the  Threshers  ” by  the  ordinary 
powers  of  the  law  — assisted  as  it  was  by  the  efforts  of  the  or- 
derly part  of  society.  If  Mr.  Fox  had  lived,  such  an  impartial 
rule  as  that  of  the  Duke  of  Bedford  might  have  won  over  the 
disaffected  in  time,  and  given  more  years  of  preparation  for  the 
experiment  of  Catholic  emancipation.  But,  now  that  he  was 
gone,  and  the  Catholics  were  again  taking  their  own  cause  into 
their  own  hands,  it  was  evident  that  there  was  extreme  peril  in 
continuing  their  disability  to  rise  in  the  army  and  in  the  state, 
and  in  refusing  to  alter  the  relations  of  the  Irish  church  to  the 
Irish  people.  Some  of  the  most  enlightened  men  who  were 
watching  the  signs  of  the  times  felt  and  said  that  it  would  be  a 
fatal  omission,  if  another  session  of  parliament  should  pass  with- 
out justice  being  done  to  the  brave  Irish  soldier  and  the  loyal 
Irish  citizen.  Lord  Grenville  proposed  as  a beginning  an  im- 
provement so  small  that  it  was  fairly  regarded  merely  as  a cor- 
rection of  an  oversight ; a correction  rendered  necessary  by  the 
Union  of  the  two  countries  in  a period  of  war.  It  was  also  the 
redemption  of  an  express  pledge.  It  could  hardly  be  conceived 
that  any  one  could  object  to  it ; and,  at  first,  no  one  did  effectu- 
ally object  to  it  — not  even  the  King,  with  his  morbid  nerves, 
and  his  hasty  and  obtuse  understanding,  and  his  obstinate  tem- 
per. Though  he  had  called  the  broadest  distinctions  “ Scotch 
metaphysics  ” when  propounded  to  him  by  Lord  Melville,  he  could 
not,  and  did  not  object,  except  as  a matter  of  feeling,  to  the  im- 
provement which  Lord  Grenville  proposed  to  him  at  the  begin- 
ning of  February,  1807. 

An  Act  had  been  passed  in  Ireland  in  1798,  and  the  government 
of  the  day  positively  promised  its  extension  to  Eng-  act 
land,  by  which  Roman  Catholics  were  permitted  to  1793* 
hold  the  rank  of  Colonel  in  the  army,  with,  of  course,  all  inferior 
and  corresponding  dignities.1  As  this  Act  had  not  been  made 
operative,  as  promised,  out  of  Ireland,  it  was  found  that  Irish 
regiments  could  not  be  brought  to  England  without  subjecting 
their  Catholic  officers  to  penalties  for  not  having  taken  the  oaths 
required  by  law.  The  Irish  Act  expressly  restricted  Roman 
1 Hansard,  ix.  p.  266. 


206 


PROPOSED  EXTENSION  OF  IRISH  ACT.  [Book  I. 


Catholics  from  holding  the  offices  of  Commander-in-chief,  Master- 
General  of  the  Ordnance,  and  General  of  the  Staff.  The  quar- 
rel now  about  to  take  place  was  about  this  restriction. 

Lord  Grenville  represented  to  the  King,  that,  by  the  Union, 
Proposed  ex-  Kish  soldiers  were  required  to  serve  in  England  and 
tension  to  Scotland,  while  yet  they  were  subjected  to  penalties 
England.  jn  Engkmcl  which  had  been  abrogated  in  Ireland. 
He  proposed  to  extend  the  provisions  of  the  Irish  Act  to  Eng- 
land ; and  the  King  gave  his  assent.  As  soon  as  the  leading 
Tories  heard  this,  they  began  to  be  alarmed,  and  prepared  to  stir 
and  cabal.1  They  were  indignant  that  “ the  King’s  friends  ” in 
the  Cabinet,  Lords  Sidmouth  and  Ellenborough,  offered  only  a 
feeble  opposition  to  this.  Lord  Malmesbury  ventured  to  inti- 
mate that  the  measure  seemed  merely  just ; but  Lord  Eldon 
and  Mr.  Perceval  declared  it  to  be  unnecessary,  as  nobody 
would  put  the  law  in  force  against  Irish  officers,  if  they  were 
really  wanted  for  the  defence  of  the  country.  Such  was  their 
notion  of  justice,  and  prudence,  and  decency  of  political  man- 
ners ! At  the  same  time,  these  loyal  men  concluded  that  the 
King’s  health  must  be  in  a bad  state  — his  mind  apathetic  — 
his  faculties  weak.  It  is  surprising  how  soon  they  discovered 
the  excellence  of  his  understanding,  when  he  once  began  to 
countenance  their  caballing. 

The  Ministers  proposed  to  add  a clause  to  the  Mutiny  Bill,  by 
which  the  provisions  of  the  Irish  Act  of  1793  would  be  extended 
to  England.  In  a despatch  to  the  Viceroy  this  intention  was 
communicated  ; and  he  was  requested  to  prevent  the  Catholics 
from  renewing  their  petitions  to  parliament  just  at  present,  when 
they  could  do  no  good,  and  might  do  harm.  This  despatch  was 
laid  before  the  King  on  the  9th  of  February,  when  he  approved 
of  preventing  the  Catholics  from  petitioning,  but  disapproved  of 
the  plan  in  their  favor.  The  Cabinet  presented  a Memorial  2 (it 
being  the  King’s  desire  that  the  whole  business  should  be  con- 
ducted in  writing)  in  which  they  pointed  out  that  what  they 
proposed  was  merely  the  fulfilment  of  an  engagement  entered 
into  by  his  authority,  and  sanctioned  by  his  government  in  the 
Act  of  1793.  They  further  indicated  the  peril  that  must  arise 
from  the  exclusion  of  Catholics  from  the  military  defence  of  the 
country,  during  a period  of  war.  The  King  sent,  the  next  day, 
an  answer  exactly  like  the  former  one : the  Catholics  must  not 
petition,  and  they  should  have  no  privileges.  His  Ministers 
ought  to  I'emember  what  happened  seven  years  ago,  and  never  to 
mention  the  subject  again.  The  Cabinet  held  council  that  night, 
and  forwarded  another  explanation.  Before  the  King  answered 
it,  lie  saw  Lord  Sidmouth  on  other  business,  and  questioned  him 

i Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  366.  2 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  ii.  p.  452. 


Chap.  IX.] 


OVERSIGHT  OF  THE  KING. 


207 


about  his  opinion,  as  a good  anti- Catholic,  of  this  matter.1  Lord 
Sidmouth  declared  afterwards  that  he  told  his  Majesty  that  one 
thing  or  another  must  be  done : the  Irish  Act  must  be  repealed, 
or  its  provisions  must  be  extended  to  England.  The  consequence 
of  this  conversation  was  that  the  King  gave  a reluctant  consent 
to  the  necessary  clause  being  added  to  the  Mutiny  Bill,  declaring 
that  he  never  would  go  one  step  further,  and  that  he  hoped  the 
subject  would  never  again  be  mentioned  to  him.  The  despatch 
was  sent  to  the  Viceroy. 

The  Viceroy  summoned  the  leading  Catholics  to  hear  the  in- 
tentions of  government.  One  of  the  Catholic  gentle-  Proposed 
men  asked  whether  the  restriction  in  the  Irish  Act  was  removal  of 
to  be  carried  into  the  English  one.  Mr.  Elliot,  the  restrictions* 
Irish  Secretary,  said  that  it  was  not ; but,  thinking  afterwards 
that  he  might  have  answered  for  too  much,  he  wrote  home  for 
clear  information  on  this  point.  This  is  the  strangest  part  of 
the  story.  The  King  had  declared  repeatedly,  and  so  had  “ the 
King’s  friends  ” in  the  Cabinet,  that  they  would  never  consent 
to  any  new  concessions  to  the  Catholics  ; and  yet  Lord  Howick 
avowed  in  the  House,2  “ I must  confess  that  I had  not  myself 
sufficiently  attended  to  the  distinction  between  it  and  the  Irish 
Act.”  It  was  found  that  the  King  and  some  members  of  the 
Cabinet  “had  not  been  fully  aware  of  the  extent”  of  the  new 
provision.  The  whole  subject  was  again  discussed  in  the  Cabi- 
net, and  it  was  determined,  in  opposition  to  Lord  Sidmouth,  who 
was  outvoted,  to  write  out  at  length  for  the  Lord  Lieutenant  the 
proposed  clauses,  and  to  tell  him  moreover,  in  the  most  express 
manner,  that  the  measure  laid  open  to  Catholics  the  whole  army 
and  navy  service,  without  any  restriction  whatever.  This  intro- 
duction of  the  naval  service  into  the  question,  and  the  removal 
of  all  restriction  with  regard  to  service  in  the  army,  ought  un- 
doubtedly to  have  been  made  clear  to  the  King  by  express  con- 
sultation ; but  this  was  not  done.  The  correspondence  and  the 
despatches  to  the  Lord  Lieutenant  were  laid  before  him ; he  re- 
turned them  without  remark  ; and  his  Ministers  sent  them  to 
their  destination.  Whether  the  King’s  bad  sight  was  answerable 
for  this,  or  whether  he  read  the  papers  indolently,  or  passed  them 
over  as  containing  nothing  new,  there  is  no  saying  now.  All 
we  know  is  that  his  Ministers  took  silence  for  consent,  though  he 
had  declared,  recently  and  plainly  enough,  that  he  never  would 
agree  to  any  new  concessions.  It  was  on  the  2d  of  March  that 
the  papers  were  thus  returned,  and  forwarded  to  Ireland. 

Lord  Sidmouth  was  not  satisfied  that  the  King  knew  what  he 
was  about,  and  urged  his  colleagues  to  come  to  some  explanation 
with  him.  This  they  declined,  seeing  no  necessity  for  it,  as  the 
1 Hansard,  ix.  p.  393.  2 Ibid.  p.  267. 


208 


CABALS. 


[Book  I. 


King  had  seen  all  their  papers,  and  fearing  to  agitate  him  unne- 
cessarily. Lord  Sidmouth  declared  that  he  would  not  introduce 
the  subject  in  the  royal  presence ; but  that,  if  a fair  opportunity 
offered,  he  should  still  tell  the  King  what  he  thought  of  the  dan- 
ger of  opening  the  navy,  and  staff  officers  in  the  army,  to  the 
Catholics.  As  might  be  expected,  the  opportunity  soon  occurred. 
On  the  4th  of  March,  several  of  the  Ministers  saw  the  King. 
He  asked  Lord  Howick  what  business  was  coming  forward  in 
Ihe  House  ; and  Lord  Howick  then  explained  to  him  that,  for 
reasons  which  he  assigned,  it  was  thought  better  to  bring  forward 
a separate  Bill  on  the  Catholic  subject  than  to  tack  it  upon  the 
Mutiny  Bill.1  The  provisions  were  fully  discussed  ; and  Lord 
Howick  understood  the  King  to  assent  to  them,  though  with  ex- 
treme dislike  and  reluctance.  Lord  Howick  immediately  told 
Lord  Grenville  what  had  passed,  and  they  agreed  that  the  con- 
sent on  which  they  had  proceeded  thus  far  had  not  been  with- 
drawn ; and  this  conclusion  was  confirmed  by  the  total  silence 
of  the  King  to  Lord  Grenville  on  this  subject  in  an  audience  on 
the  same  day.  But  Lord  Sidmouth  had  also  an  audience  on 
the  same  day  ; and  he  appears  to  have  introduced  the  subject 
himself,  and  in  such  a way  as  to  alarm  and  agitate  the  King. 
The  King  asked  him  what  he  meant  to  do ; and  his  answer  was 
that  he  should  oppose  the  measure,  even  if  it  had  the  royal  con- 
currence. He  left  the  King  much  disturbed,  and  declaring  that 
he  would  never  go  beyond  the  extension  to  England  of  the  Act 
of  1798.  On  the  6th,  however,  Lord  Howick  introduced  the 
new  Bill  in  the  Commons. 

One  curious  feature  of  this  case  is  expressly  described  by  Lord 
Malmesbury  2 — that  a large  number  of  persons,  in  both  Houses 
of  Parliament,  were  now  not  so  much  opposed  to  Catholic  eman- 
cipation as  bound  by  loyalty  to  the  King,  and  to  the  memory  of 
Mr.  Pitt,  not  to  allow  the  subject  to  be  stirred  during  the  King’s 
life.  Lord  Camden  and  many  others  were  in  this  position,  bound 
by  promise  to  Mr.  Pitt  that  the  King  should  not  be  disturbed,  if 
they  could  help  it.  If  now  the  Ministers  brought  forward  a Bill, 
with  the  assumed  consent  of  the  King,  such  men  would  have  no 
pretence  for  holding  their  old  ground  ; and  the  Catholics  might 
be  emancipated  in  a trice.  No  time  was  therefore  to  be 
lost,  said  the  enemies  of  the  Administration  and  of  the 
Catholics,  in  coming  to  the  rescue  of  the  King  — in  bringing  him 
back  to  his  “ principles/’  and  presenting  him  to  the  nation  as  the 
true  Protestant  sovereign  that  he  had  always  been,  and  that  they 
found  him  still  to  be  when  they  obtained  his  ear.  They  went 
vigorously  to  work.  The  second  reading  of  the  Bill  was  fixed 
for  the  12th  of  March.  On  the  11th,  Lord  Sidmouth  sent  in 
i Hansard,  ix.  p.  269.  2 Diaries,  iv.  p.  378. 


Chap.  IX.]  TWO  OLD  TORIES  CONSULT. 


209 


his  resignation ; and,  from  his  objecting  to  negotiation  with  Mr. 
Canning,1  and  from  another  note  of  his  to  Lord  Grenville  in  the 
same  week,  it  appears  as  if  there  was  a plan  for  removing  Lord 
Howick  to  the  Upper  House,  and  giving  his  office  to  Mr.  Can- 
ning.2 It  seems  that  Mr.  Canning  warned  Ministers  that  there 
were  plots  for  displacing  them,  and  entreated  them  to  come  to  an 
understanding  with  the  King,  instead  of  leaving  him  to  the  evil 
influences  of  their  enemies.  Lord  Grenville  begged  of  Lord  Sid- 
mouth  not  to  be  in  a hurry  ; but  Lord  Sidmouth  had  already  in- 
formed the  King  of  his  resignation,  and  had  been  graciously  com- 
manded to  remain  in  his  office. 

On  that  day,  two  old  Tories  sat  together,  consulting  for  hours 
as  to  what  they  could  do  to  bring  out  the  King  in  full  force 
against  his  Ministers.  The  Duke  of  Portland  was  infirm,  dis- 
eased, exhausted  — “kept  up  ” in  busy  times  only  by  laudanum 
and  cordials,  and  apt  to  fall  asleep  over  the  most  important  let- 
ters that  were  put  into  his  hands  to  read — dilatory,  inert,  dis- 
posed to  dead  silence  himself,  but  unable  to  get  rid  of  gossips 
and  prosers ; but  he  was  the  man  looked  to  as  the  head  of  the 
Tory  Ministry,  whenever  there  should  be  one.  The  Tories  shook 
their  heads  about  his  health  ; but  always  ended  by  settling  that 
the  Duke  of  Portland  must  be  their  chef.  Lord  Malmesbury 
was  now  too  deaf  and  infirm  to  be  a Cabinet  Minister  ; but,  as  a 
wily  old  diplomatist,  he  was  invaluable  to  his  party.  At  least,  lie 
thought  himself  so ; and  he  appears  to  have  been  in  their  confi- 
dence still ; though  his  diaries  convey  to  the  reader  some  impres- 
sion of  his  being  now  nearly  worn  out  — more  fond  of  plots  and 
secrets  than  ever,  but  less  capable  of  bringing  out  any  result ; 
more  full  of  cunning  and  self-importance,  with  less  and  less  of 
the  wisdom  and  genuine  spirit  of  business  which  had  made  him 
a really  distinguished  diplomatist  in  his  younger  days,  when  the 
transactions  of  nations,  and  not  of  political  parties,  were  watched 
and  guided  by  him.  These  two  wily  and  self-complacent  old  pol- 
iticians sat  long  together,3  on  this  11th  of  March,  consulting  about 
the  overthrow  of  the  Grenville  Administration,  and  flattering 
each  other  and  themselves  about  their  loyalty,  without,  appar- 
ently, any  thought  about  the  Catholics,  one  way  or  another. 
“ After  considering  the  business  in  every  point  of  view,”  th  y 
agreed  that  they  could  do  nothing  “ effective  ” till  they  knew  what 
the  King’s  mind  really  was.  They  suspected  he  could  not  like 
his  Ministers’  proceedings ; but  if  it  should  chance  that  he  did, 
it  would  never  do  for  them  to  be  working  against  him.  Next 
morning,  however,  the  Duke  sent  for  his  gossip  ; and  they  spent 
five  hours  together.  The  Duke  was  so  uneasy  about  the  King, 

1 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  ii.  p.  461.  2 Life  of  Canning,  p.  223. 

8 Diaries,  iv.  p.  367. 

VOL.  I. 


14 


210 


THE  KING’S  RETRACTATION. 


[Book  I. 


that  he  thought  of  telling  him  his  mind  in  a letter ; and,  with  a 
world  of  pains,  the  letter  was  concocted,  altered,  amended,  copied, 
and  sent.  It  may  be  seen  among  the  Malmesbury  papers  ; 1 and 
it  may  be  questioned  whether  a more  insolent  and  dangerous 
piece  of  interference  ever  was  perpetrated,  under  a government 
subject  to  rules  of  principle  and  manners.  The  loyal  men  who 
deprecated  the  unsettling  of  the  royal  mind  by  the  mention  of 
the  Catholic  claims  had  no  scruple  about  shaking  the  King’s 
nerves  by  a letter  full  of  pompous  alarm  and  evil  boding.  The 
sum  of  the  letter  was,  that  the  Duke  of  Portland  offered  to  be 
Prime  Minister,  to  help  his  King  out  of  his  present  scrape.  The 
receipt  of  the  letter  was  merely  acknowledged,  without  remark, 
and  the  old  men  were  evidently  mortified ; but  meantime,  the 
King  had  “ signified  his  orders  ” to  two  nephews  of  the  Duke  of 
Portland,  to  vote  against  the  measure  brought  forward  by  his 
Cabinet.2  Ladies  about  the  Court  went  to  and  fro  with  myste- 
rious messages  and  items  of  news,  while  the  gentlemen  sat  sol- 
emnly amusing  themselves  with  making  Cabinets,  and  calling  this 
patriotism.  The  Duke  of  Portland  was  “ noble  and  magnani- 
mous ” in  permitting  his  admirers  to  hail  him  as  Chief,  while  his 
infirmities,  as  he  said,  unfitted  him  for  the  post ; but  he  would 
die  at  that  post.  There  is  something  ludicrous,  but,  at  the  same 
time,  very  disgusting,  in  the  mysterious  bustling  of  these  un- 
sought office-seekers,  caballing  in  the  dark,  and  patriotically  devot- 
ing themselves  in  a cause  where  they  were  not  wanted.  “ No 
urging  was  necessary  ” to  induce  the  Duke  of  Portland  to  nomi- 
nate himself  Prime  Minister ; but,  if  it  had  been*  his  friends 
could  have  said  nothing  after  his  own  account  of  his  state  of 
health,  which  would  cause  him  to  perish  in  the  attempt  “ to  serve 
his  King  and  his  country.”  “ Settling  Administrations  ” now  ap- 
pears among  the  items  of  daily  business  of  Lord  Malmesbury. 
All  this  while,  the  unconscious  Ministers  were  going  on  with  their 
affairs  in  good  faith,  little  imagining  what  trickery  was  transact- 
ing behind  their  backs.  When  at  last  it  became  known  to  them 
that  there  had  been  some  tampering  with  the  King,  and  other 
shabby  behavior,  they  suspected  Lord  Sidmouth  — naturally  and 
unavoidably ; and  it  is  only  recently  that,  by  the  publica- 
tion of  the  “ Malmesbury  Diaries,”  and  some  other  memoirs  of 
the  time,  the  full  iniquity  of  the  transactions  has  become  known, 
and  the  disgrace  fixed  upon  the  right  persons.  Lord  Sidmouth 
seems  to  have  been  merely  weak,  as  usual,  and  not  treacherous 
to  his  colleagues. 

On  the  13th,  the  King  sent  for  Lords  Grenville  and  Howick, 
The  King’s  and  told  them  that  he  would  never  consent  to  their  Bill ; 
retractation.  and  on  this  Mr.  Canning  told  Lord  Grenville  that  his 

1 Diaries,  iv.  p.  368.  2 Ibid.  p.  371. 


Chap.  IX.] 


REQUISITION  OF  THE  KING. 


211 


duty  had  become  clear.1  He  had  already  refused  to  take  office 
at  this  time  ; and  now  he  saw  that  he  must  support  the  King,  as 
all  Mr.  Pitt’s  friends  would  feel  themselves  bound  to  do.  They 
had  only  waited  to  be  certain  of  the  King’s  wishes.  He  declare  d 
at  the  same  time  that  he  would  never  sit  in  the  same  Cabinet 
with  Lord  Sidmouth.  At  that  very  hour,  Mr.  Perceval  was  de- 
clining overtures  from  Lord  Sidmouth  to  unite  against  the  Bill, 
and  come  into  power  together.  It  appears  that  Perceval  also 
would  never  sit  in  the  same  Cabinet  with  Lord  Sidmouth.  Not 
an  individual  connected  with  Lord  Melville  would  support  the 
government  if  Lord  Sidmouth  were  in  it.  The  Ministerial  ma- 
jority in  parliament  too  were  so  wrathful  against  the  same  un- 
fortunate politician  that  no  new  Administration  which  included 
him  would  have  a chance ; and  thus,  amidst  this  “ sickening 
scene,”  as  Lord  Eldon  called  it,2  of  secret  Cabinet-making,  the 
only  point  settled  by  common  consent  seems  to  have  been  the 
exclusion  of  Lord  Sidmouth. 

On  the  15th,  Lord  Grenville  notified  to  Lord  Sidmouth  that 
he  was  sending  to  the  King  a paper  in  which  his  The  measure 
Ministers  expressed  their  willingness  to  let  the  Bill  dropped, 
drop  altogether.3  He  did  not  know  what  the  result  would  be  ; but 
he  should  learn  the  next  day,  when  he  was  going  to  Windsor. 
On  the  preceding  evening,  Saturday  the  14th,  the  Cabinet  had  sat 
late,  much  “ unpleasant  conversation  ” passing  which  settled  noth- 
ing ; and  the  resolution  to  drop  the  Bill  was  adopted  at  a meet- 
ing of  the  Grenville  portion  of  the  Cabinet  on  the  Sunday.  In 
offering  to  withdraw  the  Bill,  the  Ministers  reserved  to  them- 
selves the  right  of  expressing  their  opinions  on  the  subject  of  the 
Catholic  claims  whenever  Catholic  petitions  came  up  to  parlia- 
ment,4 and  of  offering  such  advice  about  Ireland  to  the  sovereign, 
at  all  times,  as  they  should  conceive  the  needs  of  the  state  to  re- 
quire. This  ought  to  have  been  better  noted  at  the  time  than 
we  find  it  to  have  been.  Notwithstanding  the  efforts  of  the 
most  enlightened  persons  in  parliament  to  exhibit  the  fact  that 
the  Grenville  Ministry  did  not  go  out  on  the  Catholic  question, 
but  on  a very  different  one,  their  enemies,  followed  by  too  many 
narrators  since,  have  turned  away  attention  from  the  real  ground 
of  their  overthrow.5  The  King’s  answer  expressed  satisfaction 
that  the  Bill  was  to  drop  ; regret  that  his  Ministers  should  think 
it  necessary  to  state  in  parliament  their  good-will  to  the  Catholic 
claims ; and  a positive  disallowance  of  the  latter  part  Requisition 
of  their  minute,  which  he  desired  them  to  withdraw.  of  the  Kins 
He  required  from  them  a pledge,  that  they  never  would,  under 


1 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  375. 

8 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  ii.  p.  463. 

6 Ibid.  pp.  243,  275. 


2 Life,  ii.  p.  31. 

4 Hansard,  ix.  p.  275. 


212 


THE  MINISTRY  DISMISSED. 


[Book  L 


any  circumstances,  propose  to  him  any  concessions  to  the  Catho- 
lics, or  offer  any  advice  whatever  to  him  on  any  part  of  that 
subject.  Such  a pledge  it  was,  of  course,  impossible  for  Minis- 
ters of  any  party  or  way  of  thinking  to  give.1  It  is  the  duty  of 
Ministers,  as  agreed  on  all  hands,  “ to  advise  the  King,  and  to 
give,  without  favor  or  affection,  that  counsel  which  they  think 
best  for  the  country.”  The  bigoted  and  irritable  sovereign, 
while  so  alarmed  for  the  Protestant  Constitution,  forgot  this 
great  constitutional  principle  ; and  on  behalf  of  the  principle  of 
the  responsibility  of  Ministers  it  was  that  the  Grenville  Adminis- 
tration went  out,  letting  in  the  Tories  to  rule  for  nearly  a quar- 
ter of  a century. 

On  the  18th,  Wednesday,  the  Ministers,  in  presence  of  the 
Refused  King,  uttered  their  reasons  for  declining  to  give  the 
pledge  he  required  of  them.  He  treated  them  civilly, 
expressed  satisfaction  with  every  part  of  their  conduct  up  to  the 
time  of  the  dispute  on  the  Catholic  question,  and  declared  his  in- 
tention of  “ looking  out  for  other  Ministers.”  Some  who  were 
u looking  out  for  ” a summons  to  the  royal  presence  waited  in 
vain  — waited  in  the  sickness  of  deferred  hope.  The  Duke  of 
Portland  had  not,  as  yet,  been  thanked  for  his  offer  of  the  Pre- 
miership to  himself.  His  friend  Malmesbury  reasoned  with  him 
about  dates.2  “ The  Duke  was  struck  with  this,  and  rallied  ; ” 
and  he  immediately  proceeded  to  settle  what  secretaries  he  should 
want.  It  was  from  a fresh  party  that  the  plotters  heard  at  last 
what  was  doing.  Lord  Camden  informed  them  that  Lords  Eldon 
Ministry  and  Hawkesbury  had  been  called  up  at  one  in  the  morn- 
dismissed.  ing  of  the  19th,  by  a royal  messenger  who  desired  them 
to  be  at  Windsor  by  ten.  Whether  the  return  of  royal  patronage 
dazzled  the  eyes  and  intoxicated  the  understandings  of  the  return- 
ing party,  or  whether  they  really  were  men  incapable  of  making 
distinctions  — unapt  at  “ Scotch  metaphysics  ” — we  cannot  say  ; 
but  the  amount  of  mistake  among  them  on  this  occasion  would  be 
incredible  if  it  were  not  recorded  by  themselves.  The  King  gave 
the  two  Lords  the  whole  bundle  of  papers  to  read  ; and  the  same 
papers  were  read  by  Lord  Hardwicke  and  the  Bishop  of  Lincoln  ; 
and  the  two  pairs  of  readers  gave  such  different  accounts  of  their 
purport  as  completely  to  puzzle  the  plotters.3  The  first  pair  of 
readers  found  in  the  minutes  of  Ministers  such  hard  conditions 
that  they  devoutly  agreed  with  the  King  when  he  appealed  to 
them  whether  his  choice  had  not  been  to  surrender  his  Ministers 
or  his  throne ; while  the  other  pair  found  in  the  papers  no  hard 
conditions  at  all.  But  the  King’s  tone  decided  that  of  his  new 
officers  ; and  we  find  Lord  Eldon  pitying  himself  for  being  called 
out  of  his  retirement,  but  unable  to  refuse  to  assist  his  old  gra- 
1 Hansard,  ix.  p.  243.  2 Diaries,  iv.  p.  378.  8 Ibid-  p.  383. 


Chap.  IX.]  NEW  MINISTRY.  — “NO  POPERY. 


213 


cions  Master  in  struggling  for  the  established  religion  and  his 
throne.1  Now  that  this  appeal  was  made,  we  find  the  King  pro- 
nounced to  be  u remarkably  well  — firm  as  a lion  — and  placid 
and  quiet  beyond  any  former  moment  of  his  life  ” — determined 
“ to  be  the  Protestant  King  of  a Protestant  country,  or  no  King 
at  all.”  The  Duke  of  Portland  was  now  happy  at  last.  The 
two  Lords  were  desired  by  the  King  to  command  him  to  form  an 
administration,  in  consultation  with  Lord  Chatham  ; and  by  the 
evening  of  the  19th,  the  Duke  was  writing  to  Lord  Chatham, 
in  a few  days,  the  new  Administration  was  settled.  NewAdmin 
Lord  Wellesley,  after  much  wavering,  declined  joining  istration  un- 
it. It  seems  to  have  been  understood  that  Mr.  Per-  d®rDth®. Du5ce 
ceval  was  to  be  the  chiel  Minister  in  reality,  though 
it  was  necessary  to  place  the  failing  and  slow  Duke  of  Portland 
nominally  at  the  head.  Mr.  Perceval  was  made  Chancellor  of 
the  Exchequer.  Mr.  Canning  was  Foreign  Secretary;  Lord 
Hawkesbury  Plome  Secretary  ; and  Lord  Castlereagh  War  and 
Colonial  Secretary.  Lord  Eldon  was  Chancellor  ; and  the  Duke 
of  Richmond  Viceroy  of  Ireland.  Lord  Bathurst  went  to  the 
Board  of  Trade,  with  George  Rose  under  him.  Earls  Camden 
and  Westmoreland  were  President  of  the  Council  and  Lord 
Privy  Seal. 

On  the  25th  of  March,  the  old  Ministers  surrendered  the  seals 
— all  but  Erskine,  who  remained  another  week  to  decide  some 
causes  in  Chancery.  He  used  to  tell  how  amazed  his  colleagues 
looked  when  he  came  forth,  with  the  seals  still  in  his  hand,  from 
the  royal  closet,2  “ unhurt,  like  Daniel  from  the  lion’s  den.” 
When,  at  length,  the  seals  were  given  to  Lord  Eldon,  the  King 
expressed  a hope  that  Lord  Eldon  would  keep  them  till  the  close 
of  the  reign.  Lord  Eldon  evidently  thought  the  new  adminis- 
tration would  be  a short  one,3  though  he  found  the  King  had 
more  sense  and  understanding  than  all  his  late  Ministers  — “ All 
the  Talents  ” — put  together ; and  was  now  to  be  supported  by.  a 
set  of  perfectly  obedient  servants. 

As  Mr.  Perceval  was  withdrawn  from  a lucrative  practice,  it 
was  intended  to  provide  for  him  by  giving  him  the  Chancellor- 
ship of  the  Duchy  of  Lancaster  for  life ; but  this  was  defeated 
by  the  result  of  a motion  made  by  Mr.  Henry  Martin,4  c t f f 
and  carried  by  a large  majority,  to  address  the  King,  fiCes  in  re-" 
praying  him  not  to  grant  for  life  that  or  any  other  or 

office  which  had  usually  been  granted  during  pleasure. 

During  the  recess,  the  new  government,  and  all  connected 
with  it,  made  the  most  of  their  time  in  raising  the  old  “NoPop- 
No  Popery  cry.  Mr.  Perceval  appealed  to  his  con-  ery  ” crF- 

1 Life  of  Lord  Eldon,  ii.  pp.  31,  34.  2 Ibid.  p.  32. 

3 Ibid.  p.  34.  4 Hansard,  ix.  p.  219. 


214 


DISSOLUTION  OF  PARLIAMENT. 


[Book  I. 


stituents  to  support  him  in  aiding  his  sovereign  to  maintain  the 
true  religion.  The  Duke  of  Portland,  as  Chancellor  of  Oxford 
University,  and  the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  as  Chancellor  of  that 
of  Dublin,  wrote  to  their  Universities,  avowedly  by  the  wish  of  the 
King,1  to  desire  that  they  would  petition  parliament  against  con- 
cessions to  the  Catholics.  But  the  case  of  the  dismissed  Min- 
Mr.  Brand’s  istry  was  not  yet  done  with.  Mr.  Brand  had  given 
motion.  notice  of  a resolution,  which  was  discussed  on  the  9th 
of  April 2 (on  the  reassembling  of  parliament  after  Easter),  that 
it  was  contrary  to  the  first  duties  of  Ministers  to  restrain  them- 
selves by  any  pledge  from  offering  to  the  sovereign  any  advice 
which  circumstances  may  render  necessary.  This  truth  was 
supposed  to  be  so  evident  that  the  Grenville  party  never  doubted 
its  being  affirmed,  and  supposed  themselves  in  a majority  of  at 
least  twenty,  while  locked  out  in  the  lobby  at  six  in  the  morning. 
They  had  agreed  to  bring  on  some  further  resolutions,  with  the 
same  bearing,  that  evening,  when  they  found  that  they  had  lost 
the  question.  Its  defeat  was  procured  by  appeals  on  behalf  of 
the  King,  and  threats  of  a dissolution,  if  it  was  carried.  The 
King’s  age  and  conscientiousness  were  dwelt  upon,  and  his  zeal 
for  the  church  ; and  his  having  acted  on  his  own  responsibility, 
without  any  advice  from  any  quarter ; and  the  awkward  position 
he  would  be  placed  in,  if  waited  on  by  a deputation,  and  com- 
pelled to  hear  the  resolution,  which  was  in  fact  one  of  censure 
on  himself.  These  considerations  prevailed  over  the  indisputa- 
ble truth  of  the  resolution,  and  it  was  lost  by  a majority  of  32 
in  a House  of  484.3 

It  was  found  necessary  to  dissolve  parliament  after  all.  On 
Dissolution  of  taking  the  Great  Seal,  Lord  Eldon  had  said  it  would 
Parliament,  not  be  in  his  hands  a month  if  there  was  not  a dis- 
solution ; so  strong  were  the  Whigs  in  the  Commons.  The 
Royal  Speech,  of  the  27th  of  April,  is  a curiosity  in  its  way.4 
It  professed  to  put  on  trial,  before  the  nation,  the  King’s  recent 
conduct,  in  support  of  religion  and  the  throne ; and  appealed 
to  the  Catholics,  by  all  the  indulgences  granted  them  during 
his  reign,  to  support  a sovereign  so  faithful  to  his  duties,  and  to 
the  cause  of  toleration.  It  surely  must  have  been  the  wrong- 
headed Perceval  who  composed  this  singular  speech.  He  was 
already  the  life  and  soul  of  the  new  ministry.  Two  days  before 
the  delivery  of  the  speech,  Lord  Malmesbury  had  thus  solilo- 
quized in  his  Diary,6  about  his  old  friend  at  the  head  of  the 
ministry  : “ In  the  course  of  the  last  three  weeks,  it  has,  from 
various  little  facts,  struck  me  that  the  Duke  of  Portland’s  col- 
leagues are  swerving  from  him;  that  they  take  a great  deal  on 

1 Memoirs  of  Romilly,  ii.  p.  193.  2 Hansard,  ix.  p.  286. 

8 Ibid.  p.  348.  4 Ibid.  p.  552.  6 Diaries,  iv.  p.  394. 


Chap.  IX.]  THE  “ SHORT  ADMINISTRATION.”  215 

themselves  immediately  belonging  to  him , and  treat  him  more  as 
a nominal,  than  as  a real,  head  of  the  ministry.” 

The  “ Short  Administration,”  as  it  was  called,  had  done  as 
much  as  could  have  been  expected  from  it,  under  the  The  ghort 
extremely  adverse  circumstances  of  its  existence.  Its  Administra- 
chief  value,  however,  was  in  the  testimony  which  it  tl0n‘ 
offered  to  high  principles  of  society  and  government.  If  it 
could  not  achieve  continental  peace,  the  actual  security  of  the 
negro  in  his  own  land,  political  and  commercial  equality  for  Ire- 
land, and  religious  liberty  throughout  our  empire,  it  testified  to 
all  these  principles,  and  asserted  all  these  rights.  It  was  the 
last  opportunity  for  offering  such  a testimony  and  assertion  from 
the  places  of  power,  for  a long  course  of  anxious  years. 


END  OF  BOOK  I. 


216 


TIIE  PORTLAND  ADMINISTRATION.  [Book  II. 


BOOK  II. 


CHAPTER  I. 

It  remains  a wonder,  to  this  day,  that  the  country  escaped 
The  Portland  aksolute  ruin  from  misgovernment  during  the  critical 
Administra-  years  whose  history  we  have  now  to  disclose.  The 
imbecility  of  the  Portland  Administration  is  no  mat- 
ter of  dispute.  In  differing  moods  of  contempt,  of  wrath,  and  of 
simple  wonder,  the  fact  is  admitted  in  all  the  memoirs  of  the 
time.  Lords  Eldon  and  Malmesbury  at  one  end  of  the  political 
scale,  and  Cobbett  and  Burdett  at  the  other,  treat  the  fact  as 
admitted.  It  has  been  seen  how,  in  April,  the  Premier  was  neg- 
lected by  his  Cabinet ; how  they  were  already  falling  off  from 
him,  and  acting  on  their  own  notions.  The  matter  did  not  mend 
with  time.  As  the  months  passed  on,  the  Duke  of  Portland 
took  more  laudanum,  suffered  more  pain,  and  sank  more  under 
it ; sat  for  hours  in  dead  silence,  and  as  if  hearing  nothing,  though 
he  kept  a friend  or  two  by  him,  to  save  him  from  being  alone  ; 
and  about  midnight  began  to  revive,  being  in  full  flow  of  such 
political  wisdom  as  he  had  by  one  or  two  o’clock  in  the  morning. 
Endless  difficulty  arose  from  his  lethargy  ; and,  in  one  case  at 
least,  fatal  mischief.  At  the  most  critical  period  of  the  century, 
we  had  a King  with  an  infirm  brain,  and  a Prime  Minister 
dying  of  torturing  disease  and  opiates ; while  the  family  of  the 
one,  and  the  Cabinet  of  the  other,  offered  little  ground  for  hope  or 
reliance.  The  Prince  of  Wales  and  the  Duke  of  York  were 
now  soon  to  show  their  quality.  In  the  Cabinet  were  two  of  the 
weakest  men  then  engaged  in  public  affairs  — Lords  Hawkes- 
bury  and  Castlereagh.  Lord  Chatham  was  soon  to  prove  him- 
self beneath  contempt  in  his  function,  though  he  was  the  brother 
of  William  Pitt.  Whatever  Lord  Eldon  was  as  a lawyer,  he 
was  of  the  lowest  order  of'  politicians  ; and  he  now  classed  himself 
with  Hawkesbury  and  the  other  weak  members  of  the  Cabinet, 
entertaining  a virulent  hatred  against  Canning,  and  some  jealousy 
of  Perceval.  The  talk  of  these  men  when  they  met  was  of  the 
profits  of  a political  position  — of  complimenting  and  binding 


Chap.  I.] 


MR.  PERCEVAL. 


217 


their  friends  by  gifts  of  office,  by  seats  in  parliament,  by  consid- 
eration of  one  sort  or  another  ; and  in  the  record,  we  find  a ludi- 
crous assumed  tone  of  dignity,  benevolence,  and  magnanimity,  run- 
ning through  the  whole.  We  read  a vast  deal  about  “ friendship 
and  handsome  acts,”  in  the  giving  away  of  sinecures,  and  per- 
mitting pluralities  of  lay  offices  ; 1 and  find  that,  at  this  date,  there 
were  fifty-three  candidates  for  peerage,  “ to  none  of  which  the 
King  would  listen.”  Mr.  Perceval,  though  not  adequate  to  his 
position,  was  of  a higher  order  than  these.  If  he  had  Mr.  Perce- 
had  an  intellect  of  a somewhat  better  quality,  and  the  yal- 
training  which  such  an  intellect  would  have  secured  for  itself,  he 
would  have  been  an  excellent  man.  He  was  strictly  virtuous  in 
the  private  relations  of  life,  was  absolutely  honorable,  very  ami- 
able, and  of  a generosity  and  disinterestedness  which  were  the 
more  remarkable  from  the  absence  of  those  qualities  of  the  intel- 
lect with  which  they  are  usually  allied.  He  had  poor  powers  of 
reasoning,  and  none  of  imagination ; and  therefore  his  strong 
religious  sensibilities  made  him  a bigot,  and  the  force  of  his  un- 
reasoned convictions  drove  him  into  an  abusive  dogmatism.  He 
could  never  see  what  was  not  before  his  eyes  ; and  therefore  the 
people  fared  badly  under  his  rule.  (We  speak  already  of  his 
rule,  because  he  was  now  virtually  the  head  of  the  Cabinet.) 
He  could  never  understand  how  any  one  could  hold  views  unlike 
his  own  ; and  therefore,  while  gentle,  agreeable,  and  well-bred 
towards  his  family  and  personal  friends,  he  was  grossly  abusive 
towards  opponents  in  parliament,  and  a pragmatical  despot  where- 
ever  he  could  make  himself  felt  further  abroad.  His  comrades 
complained  of  him  as  being  “ too  parsimonious,”  when  the  object 
was  to  afford  subsidies  to  Austria  for  the  continental  war ; but 
the  rest  of  his  administration  shows  that  this  was  from  no  con- 
sideration for  the  heavily  taxed  people,  but  probably  because  he 
could  not  stretch  the  vision  of  his  mind  so  as  to  comprehend  ob- 
jects so  remote.  Sydney  Smith  has  left  a sketch  of  him  “ pay- 
ing the  strictest  attention  to  the  smaller  parts  of  ecclesiastical 
government,  to  hassocks,  to  psalters,  and  to  surplices  ; in  the  last 
agonies  of  England,  bringing  in  a Bill  to  regulate  Easter  offer- 
ings ; and  adjusting  the  stipends  of  curates,  when  the  flag  of 
France  is  unfurled  on  the  hills  of  Kent ; ” and  again,  walking  to 
Hampstead  church  in  advance  of  his  dozen  children,  “ with  their 
faces  washed,  and  their  hair  pleasingly  combed,”  while  all  Ire- 
land was  ready  to  rise  in  exasperation  at  his  treatment  of  the 
Catholics ; and  Mr.  Perceval  has  himself  left  us,  in  certain  let- 
ters to  Mr.  Wilberforce,2  evidence  of  his  dread  that  the  meeting 
of  parliament  on  a Monday  should  occasion  Sunday  travelling 
among  M.  P.s,  at  a moment  when  he  should  have  felt  himself 
1 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  397.  2 Life  of  Wilberforce,  iii.  p.  397. 


218 


LORD  MULGRAVE.  — MR.  CANNING.  [Book  II 


quite  care-laden  enough,  without  undertaking  the  charge  of  othet 
gentlemen’s  Sunday  morals  ; but  this  pernicious  absurdity,  while 
making  him  more  hated  by  the  people  than  rank  vice  would 
have  done,  arose  from  the  narrowness  of  his  intellectual  range, 
and  by  no  means  from  any  harshness,  hypocrisy,  or  pride,  in  the 
temper  of  the  man.  He  was  beloved  by  all  who  came  near  him  ; 
and  the  stern  and  virtuous  Romilly  bears  the  same  testimony  on 
this  point  as  everybody  else.1  He  abstained  from  intercourse 
with  him,  because  he  did  not  think  it  right  to  enjoy  the  engaging 
social  qualities  of  one  whose  political  rule  he  totally  abhorred. 
They  had  long  maintained  “ a delightful  intimacy ; ” and  Perceval 
strove  earnestly  against  the  alienation  which  Romilly  willed,  but 
did  not  cease  to  regret.  In  regard  to  purpose  and  persistency, 
Perceval  was  among  the  few  strong  members  of  the  Cabinet. 
In  regard  to  ability,  he  was  among  the  many  weak.  During  the 
session  which  was  now  to  begin,  he  made  a remarkably  feeble 
appearance  in  his  place.  His  parliamentary  friends  accounted 
for  it  by  supposing  him  worn  out  with  fatigue  and  anxiety  by 
illness  in  his  family.  However  this  might  be,  he  was  far  from 
answering  the  expectations  of  any  party  during  the  short  session 
of  1807.  — At  that  juncture,  the  post  of  First  Admiralty  Lord 
was  of  very  high  importance.  In  the  state  of  Europe  at  the 
time,  and  under  Napoleon’s  system  of  Continental  blockade,  the 
Lord  Mui-  holder  of  that  office,  Lord  Mulgrave,  was  one  of  the 

grave.  most  important  men  in  the  government.  Lord  Mel- 

ville told  him  that  he  had  it  in  his  power  to  do  more  good  to  his 
country  within  twelve  months  than  perhaps  any  other  man  in  it. 
He  brought  forward  Lord  Palmerston  into  official  life,  and  also 
Mr.  Croker,  whose  name  thenceforward  became  connected  with 
Admiralty  business.  Lord  Mulgrave  was  a man  of  sense,  with 
whom  Canning  seems  to  have  agreed  very  well.  — 
Mr.  Canning.  Qannjng  was  the  strong  man  of  the  government ; — so 
strong  that  the  others  did  not  know  what  to  make  of  him  ; and 
he  did  not  know  how  to  get  on  with  them.  He  was  the  eagle  in 
the  dovecote,  or  rather  among  the  owls.  He  fluttered  the  Voices 
in  their  Corioli  so  tremendously  that  we  find  them  heartily  wish- 
ing that  their  gates  had  never  shut  him  in  among  them.  His 
most  sanguine  and  affectionate  elderly  friends  considered  him  as 
“ hardly  yet  a statesman.”  It  seems  as  if  his  exuberant  activity 
and  his  boyish  petulance  and  fun  made  them  forget  how  old  and 
how  wise  he  really  was.  He  was  thirty-seven  ; and  he  immedi- 
ately showed  that  he  was  as  fit  for  office  as  he  ought  to  be  at 
that  age,  if  ever.  He  was  surrounded  with  difficulties,  as  Secre- 
tary for  Foreign  Affairs.  Everything  had,  for  years  past,  gone 
wrong  abroad ; and  at  home  the  discipline  of  his  office  was  so  lax 
1 Memoirs  of  Romilly,  iii.  p.  37. 


Chap.  I.] 


NEW  HOUSE  OF  COMMONS. 


219 


that  he  had  everything  to  reform.  Not  only  were  we  feebly 
or  falsely  represented  abroad ; at  home,  no  secrets  were  kept. 
The  clerks  were  gossips,  and  the  messengers  were  lazy  ; and  Mr. 
Canning  had  quite  troubles  enough  with  his  colleagues,  without 
the  aggravations  that  might  be  caused  by  the  tongues  of  under- 
lings. His  work  connected  him  chiefly  with  Lord  Mulgrave  on 
the  one  hand,  and  with  Lord  Castlereagh,  the  War  Secretary,  on 
the  other.  With  Lord  Mulgrave  he  could  act  easily  and  agree- 
ably ; with  Lord  Castlereagh  it  was  impossible.  Lord  Castle- 
reagh was  gentlemanly,  amiable,  and  pliable ; but  he  was  weak, 
and  wholly  incompetent  to  his  function  ; and  Canning  was  not 
one  who  could  easily  tolerate  folly  at  any  time ; and  when  it  was 
made  mischievous  by  being  put  in  a high  place,  it  was  exasperat- 
ing to  him.  We  shall  soon  see  the  consequences.  Meantime, 
we  find  old  diplomatists  and  practised  politicians  — all  who  knew 
what  Canning  was  doing  — astonished  at  the  ability  he  man- 
ifested. It  was  destined  to  be  a mere  specimen  of  what  he 
could  do  ; for  he  was  unfortunately  placed,  and  his  position  was 
a most  insecure  one.  He  had  alienated  the  Grenville  and  Grey 
party,  which  included  nearly  all  the  ability  except  his  own ; and 
he  was  every  day  respecting  less  the  men  with  whom  he  was 
acting — very  few  of  whom  regarded  him  as  a comrade.  To 
work  he  went,  however,  pursuading  the  King  to  write  to  the 
Emperor  of  Russia  in  friendly  style,  while  there  was  yet  time  to 
forestall  Napoleon  in  the  wooing  of  the  weak  Russian;  sending 
out  new  men  to  foreign  Courts,  furnished  with  elaborate  instruc- 
tions about  schemes  of  policy  which  were  all  to  be  ruined  by  the 
folly  of  others  ; suggesting  ideas  to  the  Army  and  Navy  Minis- 
ters of  diversions  which  should  leave  a central  battle-field  clear 
for  renewed  efforts  for  the  liberties  of  Europe  — diversions  which 
became  desperate  failures  as  soon  as  they  passed  from  being  his 
ideas  to  being  other  people’s  acts  ; and,  the  while,  peremptorily 
insisting  on  that  dissolution  of  parliament,  which  was  found  to  be 
necessary,  after  his  party  had  for  some  weeks  doubted  the  need. 

The  new  Administration  made  prodigious  and  irresistible  efforts 
to  have  a House  of  Commons  of  their  own.  Mr.  New  House 
Tierney,  who  managed  the  business  of  buying  seats  for  ofCommons. 
the  friends  of  the  Grenville  Ministry,  could  get  none.1  £6000 
were  given  for  seats,  without  any  stipulation  as  to  the  length  of 
the  parliament,  though  the  last  had  existed  oidy  four  months. 
The  new  Ministers  had  bought  up  all  the  seats  that  were  to  be 
had,  and  at  any  prices.  It  was  said  and  believed  that  the  King 
had  advanced  a very  large  sum  out  of  his  privy  purse,  for  the 
purpose.  The  leading  Opposition  men  had  great  difficulty  in 
getting  in  ; and  few  of  them  were  returned  for  the  places  they 
1 Memoirs  of  Romillv,  ii.  p.  200. 


220 


INVASION  AGAIN  THREATENED.  [Book  II. 


had  previously  represented.  In  the  last  parliament,  the  new 
Ministers  had  with  difficulty  mustered  a majority  of  32  ; now 
they  had  one  of  nearly  200.  No  one  supposed  this  to  be  any 
indication  of  a change  in  popular  feeling.  The  people  did  not 
look  to  parliament  to  reflect  the  mind  of  the  nation, 
public  affairs.  Some  of  them  who  were  alarmed  at  the  cry  of  the 
Church  and  the  throne  being  in  danger  from  Lords 
Grey  and  Grenville,  sent  up  addresses  of  thundering  loyalty  ; 
but  these  were  chiefly  from  Chapters  and  Corporations.  The 
Whig  party,  in  their  grief  at  the  extinction  of  their  last  hope  of 
popular  benefit  from  Whig  rule,  used  language  of  such  violence 
as  commonly  belongs  only  to  faction ; and  they  were  considered 
factious  accordingly.  The  people  were  sick  of  factions ; and 
they  turned  to  men  who  professed  to  be  of  no  party,  but  pre- 
sented themselves  as  chivalrous  champions  of  popular  rights, 
waging  war  for  the  people  against  all  the  world.  Now  was  Cob- 
bett  read  in  a hundred  thousand  homes  ; and  now  was  Burdett 
worshipped  in  the  streets.  He  appeared  in  the  extremest  glory 
of  bad  taste,  on  the  day  of  the  opening  of  the  new  parliament, 
in  a triumphal  car  — his  face  pale,  his  air  languid,  his  wounded 
leg  — wounded  in  a duel  with  his  old  friend  Pauli  — stretched 
on  a cushion,1  and  the  other  foot  so  placed  on  a footstool  as  to 
appear  to  be  trampling  on  a figure  inscribed  “ Venality  and  Cor- 
ruption.” In  the  midst  of  all  the  violence  on  every  hand, 
thoughtful  and  earnest  men  carried  heavy  hearts  within  them. 
To  the  Horners  and  the  Romillys,  and  some  in  private  life  like- 
minded  with  them,  there  was  a mournful  solace  in  turning  from 
the  spectacle  before  their  eyes,  and  from  pondering  on  the  decay 
of  liberty,  and  the  deterioration  of  the  idea  of  it  in  the  minds  of 
Englishmen,  to  enjoy  the  assertion  of  its  principles  in  the  then 
new  work — Fox's  “History  of  the  Reign  of  James  II.”  There 
they  could  fully  possess  themselves  with  the  idea  of  what  they 
were  losing ; and  they  could  glory  once  more  in  what  English- 
men could  do,  when  in  manifest  peril  of  their  hard- won  liberties. 
It  is  one  of  the  most  touching  traits  of  the  time  — the  recourse 
which  despairing  politicians  had  to  literature,  as  a congenial 
diversion  from  the  anxiety  amidst  which  they  lived.  Once  more 
was  Napoleon  to  be  expected  on  our  shores  — at  liberty  as  he 
now  was,  from  having  carried  all  before  him,  and  reduced  to 
vassalage  almost  every  sovereign  on  the  continent.  Many  of  the 
most  sensible  men  in  the  country  thought  an  invasion  more  prob- 
able in  the  summer  of  1807  than  ever  before  ; and  yet,  the 
training  for  defence,  which  had  been  prosecuted  with  so  much 
vigor  when  the  alarm  was  fresher,  was  now  neglected.  Royalty, 
nobility,  and  gentry  were  too  much  engrossed  with  humbling  and 
1 Annual  Register,  1807,  p.  237. 


Chap.  I.] 


PUBLIC  TEMPER.  — EDUCATION. 


221 


insulting  Catholic  soldiers  to  attend  to  the  defence  of  the  coun- 
try ; and  shabby  little  French  privateers  came,  two  or  three 
together,  within  musket-shot  from  Eastbourne,  or  other  places 
where  the  people  were  likely  to  be  half  asleep,  laughed  at  our 
martello  towers  (brick-built,  so  as  to  be  likely  to  fall  in  with  the 
weight  of  the  gun,  on  a shot  being  fired  at  the  centre),  hooked 
as  many  vessels  as  would  pay  for  the  adventure,  and  made  off,  in 
sight  of  the  indignant  summer  visitors,  who  could  only  fret  and 
fume,  on  pier  or  cliff.  At  one  time,  the  national  defenders  were 
at  church  ; at  another,  the  commanding  officer  was  out  partridge- 
shooting. In  one  place,  there  were  cannon  without  ammunition ; 
in  another,  there  was  ammunition  without  cannon.  One  way  or 
another,  many  a cargo  was  thus  carried  off,  and  many  a crew 
went  to  a French  prison,  from  the  neglect  of  brethren  at  home  — 
notwithstanding  all  the  boast  of  forts,  towers,  regiments,  iron- 
bound  cliffs,  and  defensive  canals.  At  the  same  time,  a spirit  of 
“ savagery  ” — so  called  by  patriots  of  that  time  — seemed  to 
have  taken  possession  of  the  English  people.  The  poor  de- 
nounced the  great  in  language  of  virulent  hatred,  and  the  railers 
were  stringently  coerced.  The  criminal  law  was  vehemently 
enforced  — cruel  as  it  then  was  upon  petty  thefts  and  superficial 
disorders.  The  murders  became  terrific ; and  the  punishments 
of  all  offences  savage,  from  something  of  the  same  temper. 
When  the  royal  family  walked  on  the  terrace  at  Windsor,  oil 
Sundays,  disturbance  was  caused  by  the  number  of  intoxicated 
people  who  had  to  be  turned  off ; and  one  here  and  there  would 
strike  a Court  official,  or  knock  off  an  officer’s  hat.  At  such  a 
time,  Cobbett  was  sure  of  listeners  when  he  called  the  rich  and 
noble  “ locusts  ” and  “ caterpillars,”  and  the  clergy  “ black  slugs.” 
At  such  a time,  the  temptation  was  strong  for  the  flimsy  and  the 
vain,  the  superficial  and  unstable  well-wishers  of  the  people,  to 
come  forward,  and  offer  to  lead  them  to  the  acquisition  of  impos- 
sible things.  It  is  cheering  to  observe  how  some  men  of  soberer 
minds  and  wiser  hearts  were  beginning  to  look  into  popular  in- 
terests, and  entering  upon  those  researches  into  matters  of  national 
welfare  which  the  existing  generation  is  carrying  on  over  their 
graves.  A Burdett  with  his  shows  is  sure  to  be  swept  away  by 
the  first  strong  wind  from  any  quarter  ; but  a Lancaster,  a Whit- 
bread, a Malthus,  a Horner,  a Romilly,  is  sure  to  hand  over  his 
deeds  or  his  speculations  to  a future  generation,  however  small 
may  be  his  apparent  success  in  his  own. 

Under  the  date  of  1816  will  be  found  a statement  of  the  efforts 
made  in  this  year  by  Mr.  Whitbread 1 on  behalf  of  the  __ 

i J i n ‘ • Education. 

Education  of  the  people,  as  well  as  to  encourage  in 
them  provident  habits,  by  providing  a secure  and  ready  invest* 
1 Book  iii.  ch.  vii. 


222 


POPULAR  MAINTENANCE. 


[Book  II. 


ment  for  the  smallest  savings.  Amidst  the  darkness  of  the  times, 
he  saw  that  the  one  hope  lay  in  the  elevation  of  the  mind  and 
condition  of  the  laboring  classes ; and  in  his  views  and  proposed 
measures  we  find  more  real  statesmanship  than  in  all  the  Cabinet 
measures  of  successive  administrations.  About  the  same  time 
we  find  Malthus  according  his  name  and  services 1 as  a member  of 
a Lancaster  School  Committee,  and  a correspondence  between 
him  and  Horner,  in  which  it  is  declared  that  Lancaster  had 
pushed  education  in  England  so  far  that  it  could  never  be 
stopped  ; and  that  the  true  way  to  preserve  the  Church  was  to 
keep  close  to  the  principles  of  the  Reformation,  of  which  the 
Education  of  the  people  was  the  most  important.  While  Mr. 
Windham  was  opposing  Mr.  Whitbread’s  object  as  vehemently 
as  he  had  before  opposed  the  abolition  of  the  Slave-trade,  and 
while  the  Lords  were  venting  their  fears  that  the  people  would 
be  taught  error  if  they  were  taught  at  all,  Romilly  was  calmly 
pointing  out  that  the  object  was,  not  to  give  the  people  knowl- 
edge, but  to  enable  them  to  acquire  it.2  He  seems  to  have  been 
almost  alone  in  his  view  that  “ the  poor  ” and  the  “ laboring 
classes,”  and  “ the  people,”  as  the  ignorant  part  of  the  nation 
was  loosely  called,  were  men,  in  precisely  the  same  rank  in  the 
world  of  the  intellect  with  the  Eldons  and  the  Dr.  Johnsons  and 
the  Windhams,  who  arrogated  to  themselves  the  dispensing  of 
knowledge.  Romilly  claimed  for  the  whole  body  of  his  country- 
men that  they  should  be  put  in  possession  of  their  own  powers. 
After  that,  it  was  nobody’s  business  but  every  man’s  own  what 
knowledge  he  should  obtain,  and  in  what  opinions  his  enlight- 
ened intellect  should  rest.  This  was  a view  far  too  wide  for  the 
politicians  of  the  time;  and  the  Eldons  and  Windhams  even 
refused  to  vouchsafe  what  they  considered  true  opinions  and 
harmless  knowledge,  lest  the  intellect  should  become  awakened 
and  strengthened  in  the  process.  It  should  be  remembered  that 
there  was  a Romilly  in  1807  who  recorded  the  claim  of  the 
human  intellect  in  full,  when  the  legislature  refused  even  an  in- 
stalment of  it.  Mr.  Whitbread’s  Bill,  after  passing  the  Com- 
mons, was  thrown  out  in  the  Lords,3  on  the  motion  of  Lord 
Hawkesbury. 

It  is  deeply  interesting  to  find  in  Horner’s  correspondence 
Popular  at  this  time  a notice  of  “a  new  speculation”  of  Mal- 
maintenance.  thus,4  “ about  the  importance  of  the  people  being  fed 
dear.”  The  notion  was  so  new  to  even  the  most  thoughtful 
men,  in  the  face  of  all  the  dreadful  facts  forever  extant  about 
famines  among  Hindoos,  and  rice-eaters  everywhere,  and  all  pop- 
ulations where  the  chief  food  was  that  which  was  most  easily 


1 Memoirs  of  Horner,  ii.  pp.  19,  109,  110. 

8 Hansard  ix.  p.  1178. 


2 Memoirs,  ii  p.  217. 
4 Memoirs,  i.  p.  400. 


Chap.  I.]  THE  BUENOS  AYRES  EXPEDITION. 


223 


and  abundantly  produced,  and  in  the  failure  of  which  there  was 
nothing  left  to  fall  back  upon,  that  even  a Horner  thought  that 
it  had  “ the  look  of  a paradox.”  “ But,”  he  adds,  however,  “ I 
have  not  yet  detected  the  fallacy,  if  there  is  one.”  Mai  thus,  the 
most  unassuming  and  moderate  of  men,  was  quietly  intimating 
to  those  who  would  listen  the  Irish  famine  which  was  to  rend 
the  heart  of  the  nation  forty  years  later  ; and  pointing  out  that 
those  who  loved  their  race  should  encourage  in  all  men  that 
desire  of  comfort,  and  habit  of  living  on  superior  food,  which 
should  leave  open  a recourse  to  a lower  sort  in  case  of  a scarcity 
of  the  higher.  The  want  of  perspicuity  and  precision,  and  of 
thoroughness  in  following  out  the  consequences  of  his  doctrines, 
which  has  hindered  the  reception  of  the  writings  of  Malthus, 
and  caused  him  to  be  singularly  misrepresented,  even  to  this  day, 
was  then  perceived  and  lamented  by  those  who  knew  how  to 
value  him ; but  he  was  in  full  career  of  social  discovery ; and  it 
is  a consolation,  in  the  retrospect  of  that  melancholy  season,  to 
see  him  meditating  and  speaking  in  the  spirit  of  benevolence 
and  candor,  and  the  best  men  of  the  time  listening  to  him  with 
searching  attention  and  earnest  respect.  Another  sign  of  the 
times  is  the  tone  of  wonder  and  concern  with  which  an  act  of 
Emigration  is  spoken  of,  when  attention  is  drawn  to  the  fact  by 
the  wreck  of  an  emigrant  vessel.1  The  emigrants  were  Emio.ration 
Scotch,  and  150  in  number  ; and  great  was  the  surprise 
and  alarm  that  men  should  leave  their  country  for  America,  and 
give  up  their  little  farms  for  sheep-walks,  when  every  strong 
arm  was  wanted  for  the  defence  of  our  shores.  That  citizens 
should  ever  leave  their  native  land  is  spoken  of  as  a matter  of 
grief ; — that  they  should  do  so  when  from  thirty  to  forty  guineas 
Was  the  common  bounty  paid  in  Scotland,  and  in  most  English 
counties,  for  substitutes  for  the  militia  — now  “ so  hard  to  be 
found  ” — was  declared  to  be  beyond  measure  strange.  There 
could  be  no  stronger  evidence  of  distress  at  home,  and  of  the 
unpopularity  of  the  military  service. 

The  Grenville  Administration  had  left  as  a legacy  to  their  suc- 
cessors three  enterprises  abroad,  for  which  they  must  Bequests  of 
be  reckoned  responsible,  and  which  turned  out  as  dis-  the  Grenville 
astrously  as  any  previous  or  subsequent  failures.  ministry. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  Sir  Home  Popham’s  troops  were 
left  entrenched  on  a point  of  the  South  American  coast, 
after  their  expulsion  from  Buenos  Ayres,  awaiting  expedUionJ63 
reinforcements.  There  is  no  doubt  now  in  any  mind 
that  they  should  have  been  brought  off,  with  a full  acknowledg- 
ment that  wrong  was  done  in  Popham’s  attack  on  Buenos  Ayres. 
The  enterprise  was  disclaimed  by  government ; Popham  was  ex- 
1 Annual  Register,  1808.  Chron.  8. 


224 


CAPTURE  OF  MONTE  VIDEO. 


[Book  IL 


posed  by  Lord  Grey  in  parliament,  and  afterwards  tried  by  Court- 
martial,  and  reprimanded  for  his  conduct.  The  clear  course  of 
principle  and  policy  was  to  fetch  away  the  remaining  troops,  and 
let  the  disgrace  abide  with  the  unauthorized  leaders  of  the  expe- 
dition. But  Pop  ham’s  Circular  to  the  British  merchants,  prom- 
issory of  a rich  trade,  had  excited  the  spirit  of  greed  so  fatally 
aggravated  in  a season  of  war ; and  it  overpowered  the  rectitude 
and  prudence  of  the  government.  On  the  failure  of  the  negotia- 
tion for  peace,  a reinforcement  of  3000  men  was  sent  to  the  Rio 
de  la  Plata,  under  Sir  Samuel  Auchmuty.  They  found  their 
countrymen  miserable  enough,  half-starved  and  depressed,  with 
nothing  to  do  within  their  entrenchments,  and  unable  to  get  out, 
on  account  of  the  hovering  horsemen  of  the  enemy,  who  har- 
assed them  incessantly.  Sir  Samuel  Auchmuty  saw  that  this  was 
no  place  to  stay  in  ; and  he  determined  to  strike  a blow  for  the 
possession  of  Monte  Video,  a fortified  seaport  which  would  af- 
ford a sure  footing  in  the  country.  It  was  no  easy  matter  to  re- 
move the  troops  there  ; and  next,  the  defences  of  the  place  were 
found  to  be  much  stronger  than  had  been  supposed.  The  British 
were  unprovided  with  tools  for  mining  and  entrenching ; their 
powder  was  going  fast,  without  making  any  impression ; and  a 
force,  fully  equal  to  their  own,  was  advancing  to  defend  the  town. 
Either  they  must  assault  the  place  at  once,  or  give  up  the  enter- 
prise.1 They  made  the  assault,  aiming  at  an  imperfect  breach. 
They  missed  it  in  the  dark,  the  enemy  having  disguised  it  with 
stones  ; and  the  slaughter  was  great  before  there  was  light 
enough  for  them  to  find  the  narrow  and  perilous  fissure.  It  was 
gallantly  entered  first  by  Captain  Renny,  who  fell  dead  ; and 
many  followed  him  to  his  fate,  — there  being  room  for  only  one  to 
enter  at  a time  ; but  the  place  was  taken,  with  great  loss  to  the 
enemy.  Meantime,  orders  had  been  received  by  General  Crau- 
furd,  on  his  way  to  Chili  with  4200  men,  to  go  and  recover  Bue- 
nos Ayres  instead ; it  being  unhappily  imagined,  by  both  govern- 
ment and  people  at  home,  that  our  national  honor  required  the 
recapture  of  that  place.  Craufurd  and  Auchmuty  joined  ; 2 and, 
by  express  command  from  home,  placed  their  united  forces, 
amounting  to  above  9000  men,  under  the  command  of  General 
Whitelocke.  The  expedition  under  his  command  repaired  to 
Buenos  Ayres  in  May,  1807. 

The  government  and  nation  bitterly  rued,  afterwards,  this 
choice  of  the  commanding  officer.  If  they  had  known  of  the 
achievement  of  Sir  S.  Auchmuty,  there  can  be  little  doubt  that 
the  appointment  would  have  been  his ; but  the  capture  of  Monte 
Video  was  not  heard  of  in  London  till  after  General  White- 

1 Auchmuty  Despatch,  Annual  Register,  1807,  p.  653. 

2 Windham’s  Letters,  Annual  Register, 1807,  p.  216. 


Chap.  1. 1 GENERAL  WHITELOCKE’S  DISASTER. 


225 


locke’s  departure.  But  there  were  many  officers  of  experience, 
who  had  commanded  in  India  and  in  Egypt,  who  might  have 
been  sent ; for  General  Whitelocke  had  never  held  a separate 
command.  But  the  government  unduly  despised  the  enemy  ; and 
the  General  improved  upon  their  contempt.  Though  fully  aware 
that  the  Buenos  Ayreans  were  awaiting  him  with  two  hundred 
pieces  of  cannon  posted,  and  barricades  erected  in  their  streets, 
and  their  flat  roofs  lined  with  15,000  armed  inhabitants,  vindic- 
tive in  their  mood,  and  safe  from  attack,  he  compelled  his  troops  to 
march  without  firing  a shot  — even  with  their  pieces  unloaded  — 
till  they  should  reach  the  central  squares.  Of  course,  they  were 
shot  down  as  they  passed,  bayonets  being  useless  in  such  circum- 
stances, and  slaughtered  in  heaps  at  the  barricades ; and  three 
regiments  laid  down  their  arms.  Sir  S.  Auchmuty  did  wonders, 
through  all  this  discouragement,  — carrying  the  great  square,  and 
capturing  cannon,  ammunition,  and  prisoners,  as  many  as  he  could 
dispose  of;  but  Craufurd  had  been  compelled  to  surrender  with 
his  troops.  The  disasters  had  been  too  great  for  the  unhappy 
commander  to  bear.  He  could  not  see  his  way  to  further  con- 
quest, or  feel  sure  of  holding  what  he  had  gained.  Most  men 
would  have  tried  what  could  be  done,  the  place  being  actually 
won,  with  a noble  supply  of  the  enemy’s  artillery  and  ammuni- 
tion, and  with  every  possible  incentive  to  retrieve  the  disgrace 
which  must  be  wiped  out  now  or  never.  But  General  White- 
locke was  not  equal  to  this.  He  accepted,  the  next  day,  the 
ignominious  terms  offered  by  the  enemy.1  The  General  of  the 
Spanish  forces,  Linieres,  himself  a Frenchman,  proposed  to  re- 
store all  the  prisoners,  on  condition  of  the  British  surrendering 
all  their  conquests  on  the  Rio  de  la  Plata.  It  must  have  been 
a bitter  moment  to  Sir  S.  Auchmuty  when  Monte  Video  was 
given  up.  He  and  General  Craufurd  came  home  in  the  same 
ship  which  brought  General  Whitelocke’s  despatch.  The  strang- 
est part  of  this  despatch  is  the  conclusion,  in  which  the  General 
expresses  his  trust  that  this  treaty  will  meet  the  approbation  of 
his  Majesty.  The  reason  assigned  by  him  for  his  submission  to 
the  enemy  was,  that  that  enemy  assured  him  that  the  lives  of  the 
English  prisoners  were  in  danger  from  the  fury  of  the  citizens  of 
Buenos  Ayres.  Neither  the  King  nor  any  one  else  had  any 
approbation  to  give.  The  public  indignation  ran  high  ; and  it 
was  immediately  clear  that  General  Whitelocke  was  a ruined 
man.  He  was  tried  by  court-martial,  and  sentenced  to  be  cash- 
iered and  dismissed  from  his  Majesty’s  service.  Some  imputations 
derogatory  to  his  honor  as  a soldier  — imputations,  in  short,  of 
cowardice  — had  been  cast  upon  him  after  his  service  in  St.  Do- 
mingo, some  years  before.  His  last  appointment  was  believed, 
1 Whitelocke’s  Despatch,  Annual  Register,  1807,  p.  689. 

15 


VOL.  I. 


226 


DARDANELLES  EXPEDITION. 


[Book  II 


at  the  time,  to  have  been  a piece  of  self-will  of  the  King’s  ; and 
men  were  angry  that  an  officer  whose  sword  ought,  as  they 
thought,  to  have  been  broken  over  his  head  in  St.  Domingo, 
should  be  chosen  for  such  an  enterprise.  When  his  failure  be- 
came known,  he  had  no  chance  of  mercy.  He  had  unfortunately 
remained  in  safety,  outside  the  town,  with  a small  body  which  he 
called  the  reserve,  when  he  sent  his  troops  to  take  Buenos  Ayres, 
with  their  pieces  unloaded.  This  gave  him  the  name  which  he 
could  never  shake  off,  General  Whitefeather.  The  people  were 
ready  to  tear  him  in  pieces.  His  trial  was  long  delayed,  and 
then  much  protracted,  by  royal  favor ; and  when,  at  last,  he  was 
declared,  by  the  sentence  of  the  court-martial,1  “ totally  unfit  and 
unworthy  to  serve  his  Majesty  in  any  military  capacity  what- 
ever,” the  multitude  complained  that  he  had  escaped  too  easily. 
Such  was  the  end  of  one  of  the  “ diversions  ” of  those  days,  — 
begun  in  gratuitous  rashness,  carried  on  in  cupidity  and  incon- 
sistency, and  ending  (notwithstanding  Sir  S.  Auchmuty’s  ex- 
ploits) in  utter  failure  and  disgrace. 

While  the  floods  of  the  Plata  were  rolling  past  the  scene  of 
our  humiliation  in  the  West,  the  eastern  waters  of  the 
expedition.8  Golden  Horn  were  no  less  distinctly  reflecting  our 
shame.  Turkey  was,  during  this  period  of  European 
warfare,  canvassed,  or  wooed,  or  threatened,  or  cajoled,  by  the 
opposing  Powers,  and  was  always  obliged  to  appear  for  the  mo- 
ment to  side  with  the  strongest.  We  now  see  the  Frenchman, 
Sebastiani,  whispering  into  the  ear  of  the  helpless  Sultan  Selim 
accounts  of  the  irresistible  power  of  Napoleon  ; and  then,  the  Rus- 
sian ambassador,  in  high  irritation,  going  on  board  an  English 
ship,  and  thence  threatening  Selim  with  all  the  hosts  of  Alexan- 
der ; and  next,  Mr.  Wellesley  Pole  forcing  himself  into  Selim’s 
presence,  in  his  riding-dress,  and  whip  in  hand,  and  declaring 
that  if  the  demands  of  Russia  were  not  immediately  complied 
with,  a British  fleet  should  enter  the  Dardanelles,  and  lay  Con- 
stantinople in  ashes  ; and  again,  Selim  whispering  to  Sebastiani 
that  he  should  like  to  be  Napoleon’s  friend,  but  is  afraid  of  Rus- 
sia and  England. 

Before  the  end  of  1806,  Russia  had  driven  Selim  into  the  arms 
of  France  ; and  war  was  declared  at  the  Porte  just  after  Napo- 
leon’s victories  in  Prussia  had  filled  Alexander  with  alarm.  His 
troops  had  overrun  some  Turkish  territory  before  war  was  de- 
clared ; but  just  at  this  juncture,  he  wanted  all  his  forces  for  the 
defence  of  his  own  frontier.  He  dreaded  the  effects  of  withdraw- 
ing them  from  the  Turkish  provinces,  which  would  immediately 
fight  for  France  ; but  he  must  do  it.  He  besought  the  British  to 
undertake  another  of  those  66  diversions  ” which  began  to  sound 
1 Annual  Register,  1807,  p.  223. 


Chap.  I.] 


BEFORE  CONSTANTINOPLE. 


227 


so  disagreeably  to  the  ears  of  Englishmen  ; to  send  a fleet  of 
theirs,  which  was  cruising  in  the  Aegean  Sea,  up  to  Constantino- 
ple, and  to  compel  Selim  to  relinquish  his  alliance  with  France, 
and  make  terms  with  Russia  and  England.  The  Grenville  Cabi- 
net were  rather  glad  of  an  opportunity  of  obliging  Alexander,  to 
whom  they  had  refused  both  money  and  land  troops,  and  whose 
friendship  it  was  important  to  retain ; and  they  gave  orders  to 
Sir  John  Duckworth,  then  cruising  off  Ferrol,  to  join  Admiral 
Louis  at  the  mouth  of  the  Dardanelles.  Mr.  Arbuthnot,  the 
British  ambassador  at  the  Porte,  offered  the  final  terms  of  the 
two  Courts  to  Selim,  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  the  junction  of  the 
Iwo  squadrons  off  Tenedos  ; that  is,  on  the  26th  of  January,  1807. 
They  were  declined ; and  from  certain  threats  about  making  host- 
ages, Mr.  Arbuthnot  feared  for  his  own  safety,  and  for  that  of 
all  the  English  in  the  place.  He  arranged  with  the  captain  of 
the  frigate  Endymion,  which  lay  at  hand,  to  invite  all  the  Eng- 
lish merchants  and  the  whole  legation  to  dinner  on  board  his 
ship,  on  the  29th  of  January.  They  went,  wholly  unaware  that 
they  were  not  to  land  again.  When,  sitting  in  their  dinner  dress, 
they  were  told  that  their  wives,  children,  and  merchandise  must 
be  left  to  the  mercy  of  the  Turks  and  the  generosity  of  Sebasti- 
ani,  they  had  little  appetite  left  for  the  dinner  which  was  set  be- 
fore them.  No  communication  with  the  shore  was,  however,  al- 
lowed ; and  by  eight  in  the  evening,  when  it  was  very  dark,  the 
Endymion  was  under  way.  The  Turks  did  not  find  it  out,  nor 
molest  her  passage  down  the  Dardanelles ; and  she  arrived  in 
safety  at  the  rendezvous  off  Tenedos.  The  strong  and  rapid  cur- 
rent makes  the  passage  of  the  narrow  and  intricate  channel  com- 
paratively easy,  that  way  : the  difficulty  is  in  passing  the  other 
way,  up  to  Constantinople.  A strong  south  or  southwest  wind  is 
necessary  for  this ; and  the  fleet  had  to  wait  for  such  a wind  till 
the  19th  of  February.  A terrible  fire  had  destroyed  the  Ajax, 
of  74  guns,  in  the  interval,  with  the  loss  of  250  lives.  Seven 
line-of-battle  ships  remained,  and  followed  each  other,  at  inter- 
vals, into  the  mouth  of  the  strait.  Neither  the  efforts  of  Sebas- 
tiani,  nor  the  explosion  of  the  Ajax,  nor  any  other  warning  that 
the  English  were  coming,  had  roused  the  Turks  to  make  the 
slightest  preparation.  The  ships  sailed  proudly  up  the  strait,  un- 
delayed  by  the  fire  of  the  forts  at  the  narrowest  part  of  the  chan- 
nel, and  belching  out  flames  and  cannon  - balls  as  they  went. 
They  took  and  burned  some  Turkish  ships,  and  appeared  before 
Constantinople,  to  the  horror  of  the  whole  population,  who  were 
absolutely  without  means  of  defence.  The  Divan  would  have 
yielded  at  once ; 1 but  Sebastiani  prevented  it,  and  instigated  a 
negotiation  which  proved  a fatal  snare  to  Sir  John  Duckworth, 
i Alison’s  History  of  Europe,  vi.  p.  169. 


228 


WITHDRAWAL  OF  THE  FLEET. 


[Book  IL 


notwithstanding  express  warnings  and  instructions,  strong  and 
clear,  from  Lord  Collingwood.  He  was  unwilling  to  destroy  the 
city,  and  shoot  down  the  defenceless  inhabitants  ; and  he  allowed 
himself  to  be  drawn  on,  from  day  to  day,  exchanging  notes  and 
receiving  promises,  instead  of  fulfilling  the  threats  under  which 
he  demanded  an  immediate  arrangement.  Meantime,  not  a mo- 
ment was  lost  by  Sebastiani  and  the  Turks,  whom  he  was  in- 
structing in  Napoleon’s  methods  of  warfare.  Women  and  chil- 
dren, Christians  and  Mohammedans,  worked  day  and  night  at  the 
defences  ; and  in  a few  days,  the  whole  coast  was  bristling  with 
artillery,  and  the  chance  was  over.  The  British  officers  had  seen 
through  their  glasses  the  placing  of  the  cannon,  and  the  arrival 
of  the  ammunition,  and  the  lining  of  the  coast  with  spirited 
troops,  and  the  lodgment  of  garrisons  in  the  towers  ; and  they 
chafed  under  the  intolerable  disgrace  of  their  inaction.  But  Sir 
John  Duckworth  was  busy  negotiating  for  the  whole  of  that  fatal 
week,  at  the  end  of  which  there  was  nothing  to  be  done  but  to 
get  away  as  safely  as  they  yet  might.  The  wind  had  not  changed, 
and  it  did  not  change  till  the  1st  of  March  ; and  the  further 
delay  thus  caused  gave  time  for  charging  the  forts  at  the  Darda- 
nelles with  ammunition  and  men.  For  thirty  miles  (reckoning 
the  windings  of  the  channel)  the  ships  ran  the  gauntlet  of  an  in- 
cessant fire  ; and  such  a fire  as  was  never  seen  before.  Stone 
balls,  weighing  700  or  800  lbs,  broke  down  the  masts,  crushed  in 
the  decks,  snapped  the  rigging,  and  amazed  the  hearts  of  the 
sailors.  The  hills  smoked  from  end  to  end,  and  the  roar  of  the 
artillery  rolled  from  side  to  side.  In  another  week,  Sir  J.  Duck- 
worth declared  in  his  despatch,1  any  return  would  have  been 
impossible.  The  news  of  this  singular  affair  spread  fast  over 
Europe.  Everybody  thought  the  expedition  gallantly  conceived, 
and  miserably  weak  in  its  failure  ; while  the  conduct  of  the  Turks 
was  miserably  weak  till  they  were  properly  led,  and  abundantly 
gallant  afterwards.  Napoleon  sent  aid  to  the  Porte  — experi- 
enced officers,  and  promises  of  men,  money,  and  ammunition,  if  re- 
quired ; but  there  was  no  more  forcing  of  the  passage  of  the  Dar- 
danelles. The  British  and  Russians  blockaded  the  entrances  of  the 
Dardanelles  and  the  Bosphorus,  and  so  nearly  starved  Constan- 
tinople as  to  compel  the  Porte  to  try  its  skill  in  naval  warfare, 
for  the  sake  of  obtaining  supplies.  The  Turkish  ships  engaged 
the  Russians,  and  were  worsted.  The  relief  of  the  Porte  came 
at  last  through  the  peace  which  Alexander  made  with  Napoleon 
in  the  next  autumn.  The  British  did  nothing  more  than  main- 
tain the  blockade,  and  bear  the  shame  of  their  absurd  failure  as 
well  as  they  could.  A good  deal  of  surprise  was  felt  that  Sir  J. 
Duckworth  did  not  ask  for  a court-martial,  especially  after  the 
1 Annual  Register,  1807,  p.  661. 


Chap.  I.] 


EGYPTIAN  EXPEDITION. 


229 


things  that  were  said  of  him  in  parliament  by  Windham,  Can- 
ning, and  many  others.  But  he  did  not ; and  the  extraordinary 
pressure  of  other  interests  and  incidents  of  the  war  occasioned 
his  misadventure  to  be  passed  over  more  rapidly,  if  not  more 
easily,  than  he  had  any  right  to  expect.  Beyond  censures  from 
all  sides  in  parliament,  and  in  the  records  of  the  time,  he  met 
with  no  retribution.  So  ended  the  second  of  the  “ diversions  ” 
proposed  under  the  Grenville  Ministry. 

The  third  legacy  of  this  kind  that  they  left  was  a diversion  on 
the  side  of  Egypt. 

For  some  time,  a notion  had  been  gaining  ground,  in  the  minds 
of  English  politicians,  that  the  Sultan  would,  some  day  Egyptian 
soon,  be  giving  Egypt  to  Napoleon,  in  return  for  the  expedition, 
aid  afforded  to  Constantinople,  on  the  Danube,  and  elsewhere. 
Egypt  was  in  an  unhappy  state.  Mohammed  Alee,  the  Viceroy, 
was  at  feud  with  the  Memlooks  ; and  the  Arab  inhabitants  were 
made  a prey  of  by  both.  The  Grenville  Ministry  thought  that 
a diversion  in  that  direction  would  be  of  great  service  to  Russia, 
and  great  injury  to  Napoleon  ; and  they  confidently  reckoned  on 
being  enthusiastically  received  by  the  Arab  inhabitants,  and 
probably  by  the  Memlooks  also.  In  laying  their  plans,  however, 
they  strangely  underrated  the  forces  and  the  ability  of  Mohammed 
Alee ; and  they  sent  only  between  4000  and  5000  men  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Nile,  instead  of  an  army  large  enough  to  cope  with 
the  able  and  warlike  Pasha  of  Egypt,  and  his  Albanian  troops. 
The  small  British  force  was  drafted  from  the  troops  in  Sicily.1  It 
landed  without  opposition  on  the  17th  of  March,  supposing  that  Sir 
John  Duckworth  must  by  this  time  have  conquered  the  Sultan, 
and  that  his  province  of  Egypt  would  come  very  easily  into  our 
hands.  No  opposition  was  made  to  the  landing  of  the  troops, 
and  Alexandria  capitulated  immediately.  Only  seven  lives  were 
lost  on  the  British  side.  Within  the  city,  however,  no  provis- 
ions were  found  ; and  just  when  the  soldiers  were  inquiring  hoAV 
they  were  to  be  fed,  Sir  J.  Duckworth  arrived  from  the  station 
at  Tenedos,  and  told  of  the  failure  of  his  enterprise.  Something 
must  be  done.  No  food  remained  on  board  the  transports ; and 
the  Pasha’s  Albanians  cut  off  all  supplies  from  the  Delta.  The 
citizens  of  Alexandria  bethought  themselves  of  employing  the 
invaders  to  get  food  for  them,  as  well  as  for  themselves,  and  in- 
structed them  that  they  must  go  along  the  coast,  and  bring  what 
they  could  find  in  the  cities  there.  General  Fraser,  the  Com- 
mander, detached  1200  men  from  his  small  force,  and  sent 
them  on  this  errand  under  General  Wauchope.  General  Wau- 
chope  did  not  understand  eastern  cities,  and  Albanian  methods 
of  warfare.  He  forgot  that  the  streets  are  the  narrowest  of  al- 
1 Despatches,  Annual  Register,  1807,  pp.  665,  670,  673. 


230 


EVACUATION  OF  EGYPT. 


[Book  II. 


leys,  and  the  houses,  with  their  latticed  windows  and  flat  roofs, 
favorable  for  ambush.  He  marched  straight  to  Rosetta  and  into 
the  middle  of  it,  being  unaccountably  confident  that  Rosetta 
would  receive  the  British  as  Alexandria  had  done.  But  the  Al- 
banians were  there  before  him  ; and  they  had  left  one  of  the  city 
gates  wide  open,  for  the  march  of  the  troops  into  their  trap. 
Four  hundred  of  them  were  shot  down  in  the  streets  ; and  among 
them,  General  Wauchope  himself.  He  was  happier  than  White- 
locke  and  Duckworth  in  not  surviving  the  disaster  which  he  had 
provoked.  The  remaining  800  men  were  extricated  and  marched 
back  to  Alexandria,  without  having  effected  anything.  As  soon 
as  Sir  J.  Duckworth  heard  the  news,  he  gave  up  his  command  to 
Rear-Admiral  Louis  (who  presently  died),  and  sailed  away  for 
England.  It  presently  appeared  that  there  were  stores  of  food 
in  Alexandria,  if  they  could  be  got  at;  and  that  supplies  were 
perpetually  coming  in  from  the  river;  but  General  Fraser  seems 
to  have  re'lied  strangely  on  the  representations  of  the  governor, 
and  to  have  followed  his  advice  with  an  unaccountable  confi- 
dence. Under  his  guidance,  he  turned  again  towards  Rosetta, 
though  the  Pasha  was  using  every  hour  in  collecting  his  forces 
at  Cairo.  2500  men  were  sent  to  lay  siege  to  Rosetta  in  regu- 
lar form  ; and  there  they  waited  for  aid  from  the  Memlooks, 
which  never  came.  The  Pasha’s  forces  arrived  in  a flotilla  of 
boats ; one  detachment  of  British  was  cut  off,  and  among  the 
scattered  remainder  there  was  great  slaughter.  The  survivors 
fought  their  way  back  again  to  Alexandria,  where  they  reported 
a loss  of  from  1000  to  1200  men.  Why  the  new  administra- 
tion did  not  send  succors  from  Malta  and  Messina  has  often 
been  asked  ; and  it  has  been  said,  to  their  deep  discredit  if  true, 
that  they  could  do  nothing  in  aid  of  an  expedition  which  they 
disapproved.  However  this  might  be,  General  Fraser  was  dis- 
couraged from  home,  and  hourly  harassed  by  the  enemy.  At 
the  requisition  of  the  Pasha,  the  people  of  Alexandria  cut  off  his 
supplies,  and  cut  down  his  outposts.  More  and  more  of  the 
enemy  came  up  as  his  little  force  dwindled  away ; and  at  last,  on 
the  appearance  of  a column  which  he  was  unable  to  encounter, 
he  sent  out  a flag  df  truce,1  with  an  offer  to  evacuate  Egypt  on 
the  restoration  of  the  prisoners  taken  since  the  invasion.  This 
was  in  August,  1807  ; and  in  September  the  last  English  soldier 
left  the  mouth  of  the  Nile.  By  this  time,  the  Sultan  had  de- 
clared war  against  England,  and  had  caused  a seizure  of  all  the 
British  property  in  his  dominions.  — There  was  truly  little  to 
boast  of  in  the  achievements  of  British  arms  at  the  moment  of 
the  accession  of  the  Portland  Administration.  It  was  for  them 
to  show  whether  they  could  retrieve  the  national  credit,  and 
1 Annual  Register,  1807,  p.  205. 


Chap.  I.] 


THE  BERLIN  DECREE. 


231 


check  the  now  terrific  progress  of  Napoleon.  As  soon  as  Can- 
ning’s mind  began  to  be  busy  about  his  function,  he  consulted 
with  the  veteran  diplomatist,  Lord  Malmesbury  ; 1 and  the  ad- 
vice he  received  was  to  grant  subsidies  rather  than  loans  ; to  offer 
a large  sub.-idy  to  Austria,  payable  when  she  should  have  actu- 
ally declared  war  against  Napoleon  ; and  to  make  everybody 
abroad  clearly  understand  that  it  was  not  the  intention  of  the 
King  of  England  to  withdraw  himself  from  the  Continent  while 
Napoleon  continued  to  ravage  it.  As  for  the  method  of  conduct- 
ing the  wrar,  “ diversions  ” were  still  the  prominent  idea : but 
Lord  Malmesbury  recommended  that  they  should  be  near  home  ; 
nearer  even  than  Germany.  It  is  with  some  interest  that  we  find 
him,  so  early  as  March,  1807,  mentioning  the  Isle  of  Walcheren 
as  a good  object  of  attainment;  that  Walcheren  whose  name  was 
to  become  a word  of  loathing  and  shame  before  three  years  were 
over. 

In  the  preceding  autumn,  Napoleon  was,  as  we  have  seen,  at 
Berlin.  There  he  sat  triumphant,  sending  to  Paris  Napoleon 
the  Prussian  standards,  and  the  arms  and  other  memo-  and  Prussia 
rials  of  Frederick  the  Great,  which  it  wrung  the  hearts  of  the 
Prussians  to  part  with.  Among  the  most  wretched  of  them  was 
their  Queen,  who  had  stimulated  her  husband  to  the  war,  and 
had  appeared  on  the  battle-field,  encouraging  the  soldiers.  Of 
Napoleon’s  many  antipathies,  one  of  the  strongest  was  to  women 
of  energy  and  intelligence.  He  did  not  so  much  despise  as  hate 
such  women ; and  his  insulting  mention  of  the  Queen  of  Prussia, 
on  several  occasions,  drew  upon  him  a rebuke  and  remonstrance 
from  his  own  wife.2  His  reply  was  as  low  as  were  his  feelings 
in  regard  to  women  ; and  he  went  on  to  treat  the  Queen  of  Prus- 
sia with  insult  or  cajolery,  as  suited  his  mood  or  his  convenience. 
As  he  had  no  chivalrous  feelings,  it  was  perhaps  as  well  that  he 
did  not  affect  any.  It  was  from  Berlin  that  he  issued  His  Berlin 
his  celebrated  decree  against  the  English,  by  which  he  Decree- 
declared  the  British  islands  in  a state  of  blockade  ; excommuni- 
cated the  PInglish,  in  all  relations  whatever  ; declared  the  persons 
of  all  English  men  and  women  captive,  and  their  property  confis- 
cated, wherever  either  could  be  found  ; and  threatened  punish- 
ment to  all  persons,  everywhere,  who  held  any  sort  of  intercourse 
with  any  of  the  British  nation.  This  was  the  great  Berlin  De- 
cree which  was  proclaimed  in  Paris,  and  in  all  the  ports  of  the 
northern  seas  that  were  under  French  influence,  and  which 
caused  the  arrest  of  all  the  British,  resident  or  visiting  at  those 
ports,  the  seizure  of  all  their  property,  and  the  cancelling  of  all 
debts  due  to  them.  It  was  from  Berlin  that  he  sent  proposals 
of  peace  to  the  King  of  Prussia.  The  terms  were  so  very  hard 

1 Diaries,  iv.  pp.  388, 395,  396.  2 Letters  to  Josephine,  i.  p.  195. 


232 


BATTLE  OF  EYLAU. 


[Book  II. 


that  the  poor  King  hesitated,  and  was  disposed  to  try  once  more 
what  he  could  do  with  the  aid  of  Russia.  Napoleon  at  once  set 
about  humbling  the  Russians,  in  order  to  the  complete  subjuga- 
tion of  Prussia.  Late  as  it  was  in  the  year,  he  set  forth  eastwards, 
and  entered  Warsaw  (where  he  was  favorably  received)  on  the 
19th  of  December,  his  army  having  preceded  him  by  three  weeks, 
winter  His  soldiers  expected  to  winter  on  the  Vistula,  and 
campaign.  spread  along  its  eastern  bank,  from  Warsaw  to  the  sea, 
to  repose  themselves ; but  the  Russians  were  not  disposed  to  al- 
low this.  Their  General,  Benningsen,  attacked  the  French  Gen- 
eral, Bernadotte,  who  forthwith  attempted  to  draw  the  Russians 
into  a position  in  which  they  could  be  attacked  by  Napoleon  while 
engaged  with  him.  But  Benningsen  understood  his  business  too 
well.  He  retreated  towards  the  northeast,  followed  step  by  step 
by  the  French,  whose  forces  had  been  recruited  by  prodigious 
efforts.1  Conscripts,  hardly  trained  for  the  field,  were  brought 
from  Italy,  and  other  remote  dominions  of  France.  British 
merchandise  in  Hamburg  was  released  on  the  payment  of 
700,000/. ; and  similar  levies  were  made  upon  the  other  ports 
and  large  cities  in  the  rear.  Corn,  wood,  clothing  (from  Ham- 
burg 50,000  great-coats  without  delay)  were  required,  in  addi- 
tion to  the  money ; and  the  whole  Continent  behind  and  on 
either  hand  groaned  under  the  exactions  of  Napoleon.  The  con- 
flict which  must  result  from  such  preparations  was  watched  for 
by  all  the  nations;  though  our  George  III.  was  at  the  moment 
too  much  engrossed  by  the  dread  of  equalizing  his  own  Catholic 
and  Protestant  soldiers  to  have  much  attention  left  for  other 
things.  It  was  in  the  midst  of  his  consternation  about  the 
Grenville  and  Grey  Catholic  Relief  Bill  that  the  great  battle  of 
Eylau  was  fought. 

Eylau  is  a village,  twenty  or  more  miles  south  of  Konigsberg, 
Battle  of  in  Eastern  Prussia.  There  the  Russians  and  Prus- 

Eyiau.  sians  drew  together  all  the  forces  that  the  season  and 

the  French  had  left  them  ; and  the  French  mustered  for  a critical 
battle.  The  French  had  about  10,000  more  men  than  the  ene- 
my ; and  about  120  less  cannon.  After  some  bloody  skirmishing, 
by  the  light  of  burning  houses,  on  the  7th  of  February,  the  two 
armies  lay  down  amidst  the  sheeted  snow,  lighted  by  the  same 
watch-fires ; for  they  were  crowTded  within  an  extremely  small 
space.  Few  could  sleep  ; but  Napoleon  did.  He  was  harassed 
with  fatigue  ; and  he  slept  through  the  night  in  a house  at  Eylau. 
His  position  appeared  perilous  ; but  it  was  much  more  so  the  next 
day.  There  was  a strong  east  wind,  and  a blinding  snow ; and 
as  he  stood  by  the  churchyard,  on  a little  eminence,  the  Russians 
came  up,  and  almost  trod  him  down  before  he  perceived  how 
i Alison’s  History  of  Europe,  vi.  pp.  23,  24. 


Chap.  I.] 


APATHY  OF  ENGLAND. 


233 


near  they  were.1  They  were  not  fully  aware  what  was  within 
their  grasp  ; and,  delayed  for  a moment,  if  not  daunted,  by  the 
bold  face  of  his  guard,  and  presently  attacked  on  either  hand, 
they  let  their  prize  escape.  The  fate  of  Europe  hung  on  that 
moment,  and  Napoleon’s  usual  fortune  prevailed.  The  check  he 
then  received  was,  however,  considerable.  The  battle  during  the 
whole  day  was  a series  of  extraordinary  vicissitudes.  Each  party 
reasonably  believed  itself  victorious  half  a dozen  times.  It  was 
the  bloodiest  and  most  desperately  contested  battle  which  had 
been  fought  since  the  rise  of  Napoleon.  Even  he,  with  his 
boasting  habit  of  speech,  hardly  claimed  the  victory ; and  the 
funds  fell  at  Paris,  on  the  receipt  of  his  bulletin.  This  was  not 
perhaps  so  much  on  account  of  the  issue  of  this  particular  battle 
as  because  the  French  people  now  discovered  that  the  Russians 
were  a formidable  enemy,  and  that  the  result  of  the  campaign 
was  not  so  assured  beforehand  as  they  had  supposed.  Each 
force  retired:  the  Russians  towards  Konigsberg,  and  the  French 
towards  the  Vistula. 

This  was  the  last  success  of  the  Russians  for  the  present. 
While  both  armies  were  receiving  reinforcement,  Napoleon  sent 
Lefebvre  to  take  Dantzic.  The  place  held  out  eight  weeks,  and 
then  capitulated,  on  the  26th  of  May,  1807.  He  had  so  far  ad- 
mitted the  importance  of  the  check  at  Eylau  as  to  propose  peace 
immediately  afterwards,  in  a very  different  tone  from  that  which 
he  had  before  used  towards  the  unhappy  King  of  Prussia.  The 
temptation  to  come  to  terms  must  have  been  strong;  but  the 
King  resisted  it,  at  the  desire  of  the  Russians.  All  Europe  pres- 
ently knew  this,  and  praised  the  King  of  Prussia,  and  looked  for 
the  issue  of  a great  army  from  Austria,  and  for  important  aid  of 
men  and  money  from  England.  On  the  whole,  the  destruction 
of  Napoleon  seems  to  have  been  really  more  probable  Apathy  of 
at  this  moment  than  at  any  previous  point  of  his  career  England. 

— more  probable,  certainly,  than  his  extrication.  But  the  hopes 
of  so  many  nations  were  soon  extinguished.  It  was  the  universal 
belief  that  50,000  men,  sent  from  England  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Elbe,  would  now  have  ended  the  war.  Napoleon  was  ordering 
the  third  conscription  within  seven  months,  and  the  heart  of 
France  was  sinking  within  her  ; while  Austria  would  with  alac- 
rity have  brought  up  her  forces  from  Bohemia,  to  invest  the 
Elbe,  in  Napoleon’s  rear.2  But  Lord  Howick's  reply  to  the 
request  of  the  friendly  Powers  was  (on  the  10th  of  March), 
“ Doubtless  the  spring  is  the  most  favorable  period  for  military 
operations ; but  at  the  present  juncture  the  allies  must  not  look 
for  any  considerable  land  force  from  Great  Britain.”  A sub- 
sidy of  500,000/.  was  granted ; 3 but  no  troops  went  forth  before 

1 Las  Cases,  ii.  p.  151.  2 Alison’s  History,  vi.  p.  94. 

8 Annual  Register,  1807,  p.  23. 


234 


BATTLE  OF  FRIEDLAND. 


[Book  IL 


July  ; and  then  they  were  only  8000  ; and  they  were  sent  where 
they  could  do  little  good.  The  early  summer  showed  how  disas- 
trous were  the  consequences  of  thus  letting  that  critical  spring 
pass  away  unused. 

Napoleon  took  the  field  again  in  June,  with  recruited  forces 
— -equipped  in  Yorkshire  cloth,  whether  he  knew  it  or  not ; for 
his  requisitions  were  so  hasty  that  the  Hamburgh ers  were 
obliged  to  brave  the  penalty  of  death,  and  import  English  goods 
for  the  making  up  of  the  tens  of  thousands  of  garments  demanded. 
He  must  conquer ; he  knew  it,  and  he  said  it.1  As  Metternich 
observed,  he  might  win  many  battles  without  destroying  his  ene- 
mies, but  he  could  not  lose  one  without  destroying  himself.  As 
Austria  waited  for  England,  and  England  was  not  stirring,  every 
advantage  was  given  to  Napoleon,  and  he  won.  On  the  14th 
of  June,  the  anniversary  of  the  battle  of  Marengo,  he  totally 
Battle  of  defeated  the  Russians  at  Friedland,  a few  miles  from 

Friediand.  Eylau.  It  was  a complete  wreck  of  the  cause  of  the 

allies.  The  Russians  showed  all  the  military  qualities  which  had 
made  them  respected  at  Eylau  ; but  they  had  to  pass  a river  in 
the  presence  of  an  enemy  double  their  own  number.  They 
did  not  surrender.  They  preferred  perishing;  and  they  were 
drowned  and  slaughtered  in  crowds.  Deep  were  the  curses  then 
vented  upon  English  parsimony  and  dilatoriness.  After  taking 
a high  tone  among  the  allies,  she  withheld  aid  at  the  moment 
when  there  could  scarcely  be  a doubt  that  it  would  have  availed 
to  prostrate  Napoleon.  Russia,  as  we  shall  see,  forsook  her  ; 
and  some  words  attributed  to  the  Crown  Prince  of  Denmark 
soon  after  showed  how  the  alliance  of  England  was  regarded 
after  that  unfortunate  spring.  “ You  offer  us  your  alliance,” 
said  the  Prince,  “ but  we  know  what  it  is  worth.  Y"our  allies, 
who  have  been  vainly  expecting  your  succors  for  a whole  year, 
have  taught  us  what  is  the  worth  of  English  friendship.” 
Thoughtful  historians,  and  statesmen  of  a new  generation,  have 
recorded  their  belief  that  this  failure  in  fidelity  and  energy  at 
the  close  of  the  Grenville  Administration  was  paid  for  by  the 
whole  Peninsular  War  — by  another  seven  years  of  struggle 
with  Napoleon,  and  the  addition  of  100,000,000/.  to  our  national 
debt.  Even  the  muskets  promised,  and  for  want  of  which  a large 
body  of  the  Russian  troops  remained  unarmed,  did  not  arrive  till 
Alexander  had  made  peace  with  the  conqueror. 

It  was  observed  during  these  recent  campaigns,  that  Napoleon 
did  not  follow  up  his  victories  as  in  his  earlier  days.  On  the 
present  occasion,  the  difficulties  of  the  ground  were  such,  and 
the  loss  of  hope  and  heart  among  the  beaten  troops  so  great,  that 
he  might  have  annihilated  the  Russian  army  in  its  retreat  be- 
1 Alison’s  History,  vi.  p.  98. 


Chap.  I.] 


PROFESSIONS  OF  RUSSIA. 


235 


hind  the  Pregel.  if  he  had  followed  it.  But  he  did  not.  He  let 
his  foes  flounder  through  swamps,  and  run  over  each  other  in  the 
apprehension  that  he  was  behind  them,  while  he  sat  still.  The 
fact  was,  his  own  position  was  very  precarious.  Fifty  thousand 
of  his  soldiers  were  in  hospital,  sick  or  wounded  ; his  new  levies 
were  hardly  trained  for  their  work;  his  army  would  fall  to 
pieces  if  he  left  the  spot ; yet  he  knew  that  he  was  much  wanted 
at  Paris,  where  the  belief  of  his  invincibility  was  by  no  means 
what  it  had  been,  and  where  the  people,  not  having  seen  him  for 
nearly  a year,  were  becoming  discouraged  and  angry  at  the 
slaughter  of  the  young  men  of  the  nation,  and  the  ever-increasing 
weight  of  the  taxes.  Napoleon  was,  in  the  midst  of  his  glory, 
distressed  on  every  side ; and  timely  vigor,  union,  and  courage 
among  the  allies  might  soon  have  retrieved  the  recent  disasters. 
But  the  weak  Alexander  did  not  second  his  brave  generals,  and 
his  whole  desire  was  for  peace.  How  he  made  it  will  never  be 
forgotten  while  history  is  read. 

On  the  16th  of  June,  two  days  after  the  battle  of  Friedland, 
Napoleon  was  in  Konigsberg.  The  Niemen  formed  the  Russian 
frontier ; and  thither  Alexander’s  forces  were  retreating,  in  the 
direction  of  Tilsit.  On  the  morning  of  the  19th,  the  allied  ar- 
mies began  to  pass  the  bridge  at  Tilsit ; and  for  forty  hours  the 
unbroken  line  stretched  over  it.  When  all  were  on  the  Russian 
side,  the  bridge  was  destroyed.  Alexander  did  not  mean  that 
his  soldiers  should  pass  it  again.  He  had  not  entered  into  the 
war  on  his  own  account  so  much  as  for  the  objects  of  Austria  and 
England ; in  which,  however,  the  peace  of  Europe  was  involved. 
England  had  failed  in  her  engagements  ; Austria  was  timid  and 
passive  ; and  he  did  not  consider  himself  obliged  to  sustain  alone 
the  burden  of  supporting  unfortunate  Prussia.  If  this  had  been 
all,  there  would  have  been  no  reasonable  ground  for  censuring 
him  for  making  peace  at  Tilsit.  But  in  the  process,  he  violated 
solemn  engagements,  recently  made,  and  manifested  a profligate 
selfishness  and  cru^l  treachery  which  appear  more  shocking  and 
amazing  as  time  rolls  on. 

It  was  on  the  preceding  1st  of  April  that  he  had  met  his  be- 
loved brother  of  Prussia  and  the  Queen  at  Memel,1  professions 
to  mourn  over  the  tyranny  of  Napoleon,  and  concert  of  Russia- 
measures  for  withstanding  it.  The  sovereigns  sprang  into  each 
other’s  arms  ; their  eyes  were  full  of  tears,  and  they  could  not 
speak.  They  walked  hand  in  hand,  and  at  times  Alexander  threw 
his  arm  over  his  friend’s  neck.  The  meeting  with  the  spirited 
Queen  was  even  more  affecting  — with  kissing  of  hands  and 
cheeks,  tears,  and  sympathy.  If  there  had  been  any  voice  to 
whisper  how  matters  would  be  before  June  was  out,  who  would 
1 Annual  Register,  1807,  p.  446. 


236 


NAPOLEON  AND  ALEXANDER. 


[Book  IL 


have  believed  it  ? Several  weeks  later,  quite  at  the  end  of 
May,1  Alexander  said,  in  his  reply  to  that  letter  which  Mr.  Can- 
ning induced  George  III.  to  write,  that  “ there  was  no  salvation 
to  himself  or  to  Europe  but  by  eternal  resistance  to  Bonaparte  ; ” 
yet,  within  four  short  weeks,  where  was  he,  and  what  was  he 
doing  ? 

It  is  not  agreed  which  of  the  Emperors  first  proposed  peace. 
Conference  Each  afterwards  declared  that  it  was  the  other.  But 
%t  Tilsit.  circumstances  seem  to  confirm  the  word  of  Napoleon, 
for  once.  Now,  one  of  the  articles  of  agreement  between  Rus- 
sia and  Prussia  was  that  neither  should  make  peace  without  the 
other.  Thus,  the  mere  negotiation  for  a separate  peace  was  a 
breach  of  faith,  to  begin  with.  Before  they  met,  the  two  Em- 
perors, who  abode  on  opposite  sides  of  the  Niemen,  agreed  upon 
an  armistice  which  showed  both  that  their  objects  were  few  and 
simple.  Napoleon  wished  to  ruin  England,  and  had  to  ask  of 
Russia  merely  to  shut  her  ports  against  British  ships,  and  excom- 
municate the  English  people.  Alexander  had  simply  to  ask  Na- 
poleon to  let  Poland  alone,  and  to  desert  Turkey.  When  the  na- 
ture of  their  respective  needs  was  ascertained,  they  agreed  to  meet, 
and  hold  a private  consultation  on  the  affairs  of  Europe,  which 
they  could  settle  as  they  pleased.  Alexander  went  to  this  confer- 
ence, full  of  resentment  against  England,  vanity  at  being  placed, 
hand  in  hand  with  the  great  conqueror,  at  the  summit  of  European 
destinies,  and  having  apparently  no  thought  or  care  for  the  in- 
sulted and  despoiled  brother  of  Prussia  to  whom  he  was  so  lately 
vowing  sympathy  and  protection. 

As  if  the  conference  was  to  be  too  shameful  to  be  overheard, 
it  was  to  take  place  in  the  middle  of  the  river.  A large  raft, 
with  a wooden  house  upon  it,  splendidly  adorned,  and  canopied 
with  the  eagles  of  F ranee  and  Russia,  was  moored  in  mid-stream, 
where  it  glittered  in  the  sun  of  June.  Here  the  two  Emperors 
were  to  be  entirely  alone.  Another  raft,  at  some  distance,  was 
destined  for  their  respective  suites,  who  might  be  forswearing 
enmity  while  their  sovereigns  were  conspiring  against  the  liber- 
ties of  Europe.  On  the  25th,  the  river-banks  were  lined  with 
the  Imperial  Guard  of  both  monarchs,  in  a triple  row,  and  the 
thunder  of  the  cannon  waited  for  the  meeting  of  the  potentates. 
A boat  under  each  bank  received  the  Emperors,  who  stepped  on 
board  at  the  same  moment,  followed  each  by  a few  officers. 
They  were  to  land  on  opposite  sides  of  the  raft,  and  enter  the 
house  by  opposite  doors.  Napoleon’s  rowers  landed  him  first ; 
and  he  hastened  through  his  own  door,  to  open  that  by  which 
Alexander  was  to  enter.  The  first  words  were  spoken  by  Alex- 
ander, who  said,2  “ I hate  the  English  as  much  as  you  do,  and 
1 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  398.  2 Alison’s  History,  vi.  p.  287. 


Chap.  I.] 


TREATY  OF  TILSIT. 


237 


am  ready  to  second  you  in  all  your  enterprises  against  them.” 
“ in  that  case,”  replied  Napoleon,  “ everything  will  be  easily 
arranged,  and  peace  is  already  made.”  Everything  was  easily 
arranged  — even  in  two  hours. 

When  the  business  of  framing  the  treaty  had  to  be  done,  they 
made  a show  of  joining  Prussia  in  the  compact,  call-  Treaty  of 
ing  in  on  her  behalf  the  man  who  was  strongly  sus-  Tilsit- 
pected  of  delivering  up  Dantzic  by  treachery,  and  who  was  cer- 
tainly a mere  man  of  straw  on  the  present  occasion  — General 
Kalkreuther.  Talleyrand  was  Napoleon’s  agent.  When  the 
treaty  was  all  ready  for  signature,  Napoleon  invited  to  dinner 
the  Queen  of  Prussia  whom  he  had  repeatedly  insulted  in  his 
bulletins  ; and  then  declared  himself  to  be  so  fascinated  by  her 
spirit  and  grace  that  he  desired  Talleyrand  to  get  the  treaty 
signed  after  dinner  without  her  knowledge ; lest  he  should  be 
won  over  to  alter  its  provisions  in  favor  of  Prussia.1  He  after- 
wards admitted  the  difficulty  he  had  in  withstanding  — not  so 
much  the  loud  cry  for  “Justice!  justice!”  with  which  she 
greeted  him  at  first,  as  the  ability  and  reasoning  power  with 
which  she  led  and  sustained  conversation  on  the  politics  of 
Europe.  Her  emotion  when  she  heard  of  the  signature  of  the 
treaty  was  a mournful  spectacle  ; and  not  less  must  it  have  been 
so  to  see  her  husband  in  the  daily  rides  with  the  Emperors  which 
he  thought  it  right  to  submit  to,  but  which  his  soldiers  could  ill 
bear  to  witness.  The  sovereigns  were  now  all  living  in  Tilsit. 
Napoleon  sent  Alexander  the  furniture  of  his  house  — even  his 
own  bed  — French  dinners  daily  — and  every  luxury  he  could 
think  of.  They  were  together  all  the  morning  on  business,  and 
dined  together  every  evening.  When  they  rode,  the  King  of 
Prussia  was  on  one  hand  of  Napoleon,  and  Alexander  on  the 
other ; but  the  Emperors  were  always  conversing  earnestly  and 
riding  fast,  and  the  King  could  not  keep  up  with  them.  It  was 
not  till  the  ceremony  of  dismounting  had  to  be  gone  through  that 
they  remembered  him  ; and  then  they  waited  while  he  rode  up 
alone,  in  the  sight  of  all  the  people.  Alexander  might  have 
wished  never  to  see  again  the  ally  whom  he  had  betrayed. 

Under  this  treaty,  Alexander  accepted  a portion  of  the  do- 
minions of  that  ally,  in  Polish  Prussia ; 2 reconciling  himself  to 
it  by  giving  it  the  name  of  a compensation  for  the  expenses  of 
the  war.  The  King  of  Prussia  was  deprived  of  all  his  territory 
between  the  Rhine  and  the  Elbe ; but  Silesia  was  restored  to 
him,  with  the  greater  part  of  his  German  dominions  on  the  right 
bank  of  the  Elbe.  Even  this  restitution  was  embittered  by  its 
being  made  as  a mark  of  the  Emperor’s  regard  for  his  “ brother  ” 
Alexander.  Out  of  the  same  regard,  Napoleon  deserted  both 
1 Las  Cases,  iv.  p.  228.  2 Treaties  of  Tilsit,  Ann.  Reg.  1807,  pp.  714,  720. 


238 


SECRET  ARTICLES. 


[Book  IL 


Poland  and  Turkey,  without  remorse.  To  return  the  obligation, 
Alexander  promised  to  take  in  hand  the  sturdy  Sweden  which 
stood  out  vigorously  against  Napoleon  ; recognized  the  new  king- 
dom of  Westphalia,  and  Jerome  Bonaparte  as  its  king ; and  also 
the  royalty  of  two  other  brothers  of  Napoleon,  who  were  made 
Kings  of  Naples  and  Holland.  The  whole  of  the  south  of  Europe 
was  acknowledged  to  be  Napoleon’s,  and  both  Emperors  were  to 
damage  Great  Britain,  in  every  possible  way.  The  King  of 
Prussia  was  to  reduce  his  troops  to  40,000  men  ; and  to  pay 
about  6,000,000/.  to  France,  submitting  to  the  occupation  of  Ber- 
lin and  his  chief  fortresses  by  French  troops  at  the  expense  of 
Prussia,  till  the  debt  should  be  discharged.  This  debt  was  in 
addition  to  the  charges  for  the  war,  which  amounted  to  above 
20,000,000/.  The  annual  revenue  of  Prussia  was  only  3,000,- 
000/. ; so  that  it  was  clear  that  she  could  never  free  herself  from 
the  French  garrisons  which  held  the  virtual  control  of  the  country. 
The  proclamation  in  which  he  released  from  their  allegiance  the 
inhabitants  of  his  lost  provinces  is  one  of  the  most  affecting 
documents  in  history  — full  of  the  dignity  of  patient  misfortune. 
We  should  like  to  know  whether,  amidst  the  dazzling  blaze  of 
Napoleon’s  favor,  Alexander  found  eyes  to  read  it.  If  he  did, 
he  could  have  little  enjoyed  his  new  honors  that  day. 

In  giving  the  history  of  this  Treaty  of  Tilsit,  we  have  been 
narrating  what  deeply  concerned  the  interests,  if  not  the  very 
Secret  ar-  existence  of  the  British  nation.  There  were  Secret 
tides.  Articles  in  this  Treaty  of  Tilsit,  in  which  England 

had  a vital  interest.  These  secret  articles  are  not  to  be  found  in 
any  collection  of  State  Papers  ; 1 but  Napoleon’s  diplomatists 
have  given  a sufficient  account  of  them  to  enable  us  to  speak  of 
them  with  assurance.  Napoleon  would  not  part  with  Constan- 
tinople ; but  he  not  only  gave  up  Turkey  as  a whole  to  be  dealt 
with  as  Alexander  pleased,  but  agreed  to  unite  his  efforts  with 
Alexander  to  wrest  from  the  Porte  all  its  provinces  but  Roume- 
lia,  if  within  three  months  she  had  not  made  terms  satisfactory 
to  Alexander.  In  requital  for  this,  if  England  did  not  before 
the  1st  of  November  make  terms  satisfactory  to  Napoleon,  on 
the  requsition  of  Russia,  the  two  Emperors  were  to  require  of 
Sweden,  Denmark,  and  Portugal,  to  close  their  ports  against  the 
English,  and  were  to  unite  their  forces  in  war  against  Great 
Britain,  by  sea  and  land.  Spain  was  to  be  compelled  to  remain 
at  war  with  England  also ; and,  by  a yet  more  secret  set  of  arti- 
cles, known  to  the  two  Emperors  alone,  it  was  agreed,  amidst  a 
plan  of  complete  spoliation  of  Europe,  with  portions  of  Asia  and 
Africa,  for  their  aggrandizement,  that  Spain  and  Portugal  should 
become  the  dominions  of  Napoleon,  under  the  government  of 
1 Alison’s  History,  vi.  pp.  299-301. 


Chap.  I.] 


ENGLAND  AND  DENMARK. 


239 


princes  of  his  family.  A striking  proof  of  the  complete  pros- 
tration of  Alexander’s  judgment  at  this  time  is  that  he.  without 
objection,  left  to  Napoleon  the  framing  of  these  secret  articles,1 
after  their  parting.  The  articles  were  merely  sketched  at  Tilsit 
— drawn  out  afterwards  at  Paris  under  Napoleon’s  dictation, 
transmitted  rapidly  to  St.  Petersburg,  and  signed  by  Alexander 
as  a matter  of  course.  Napoleon  went  home  (where  he  arrived 
in  August)  to  contract  the  French  Constitution  and  diminish  the 
liberties  of  the  people  ; and  Alexander  repaired  to  his  capital, 
where  he  instructed  his  minister  to  deny  that  there  were  any 
secret  articles  in  the  Treaty  of  Tilsit  2 in  any  way  injurious  to 
England.  The  rulers  of  England,  with  the  animating  soul  of 
Canning  in  the  midst  of  them,  were  meantime  not  idle. 

In  the  month  of  May,  the  Duke  of  Portland  had  had  an  au- 
dience of  the  Prince  of  Wales  at  Carlton  House,  at  England  and 
which  he  had  heard  a piece  of  news  from  the  Prince,  1)enmark- 
which  it  deeply  concerned  him,  as  Prime  Minister,  to  know. 
The  Prince  Regent  of  Portugal  had  sent  secret  information  that 
Napoleon  wanted  to  invade  our  shores  with  the  Portuguese  and 
Danish  fleets.  The  Portuguese  had  been  refused.  It  was  for 
us  to  see  to  the  Danish.  Mr.  Canning  lost  no  time  in  seeing  to 
it ; and  while  the  Emperors  were  consulting  at  Tilsit,  he  was  ac- 
tively engaged  in  disabling  Denmark  from  injuring  us.  When  he 
had  confidential  information  of  the  secret  articles  of  the  Tilsit 
Treaty,  his  proceedings  were  hastened,  and  they  were  made  as 
peremptory  as  the  occasion  required.  He  endured  great  blame, 
for  a long  time,  on  account  of  this  peremptoriness ; and  he  could 
not  justify  himself,  because  the  government  were  pledged  to  se- 
crecy. The  highest  principle,  the  most  acknowledged  honor,  and 
the  best  oratory  of  parliament  and  the  country,  were  agamst  him  ; 
the  Grenvilles  and  Greys  — the  Horners  and  Romillys  — the  best 
part  of  the  press  and  the  public  were  against  him,  and  spoke  in 
the  confidence  of  the  plainest  and  most  straightforward  morality ; 
yet  there  is  now  — and  there  has  been,  ever  since  the  facts  were 
revealed  — an  universal  agreement  that  he  was  right ; that  he  did 
only  what  was  necessary  ; and  that  it  was  done  in  the  best  manner. 

Mr.  Jackson,  who  had  been  for  some  years  our  Envoy  at  the 
Court  of  Berlin,  was  sent  to  Kiel,  to  require  of  the  Crown  Prince 
(then  at  Kiel),  who  was  known  to  be  under  intimidation  by  Na- 
poleon, that  the  Danish  navy  should  be  delivered  over  to  Eng- 
land, to  be  taken  care  of  in  British  ports,  and  restored  at  the 
end  of  the  war.  The  Crown  Prince  refused,  with  the  indigna- 
tion which  was  to  be  expected.  His  position  was  an  extremely 
hard  one ; 3 and  our  King  showed  his  sense  of  this  by  the  mot 

1 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  407.  2 Ibid.  p.  403. 

8 Life  of  Lord  Eldon,  ii.  p.  61. 


240 


SEIZURE  OF  THE  DANISH  FLEET.  [Book  II. 


which  he  uttered  to  Mr.  Jackson  on  his  return,  and  which  he 
liked  to  tell.  He  abruptly  asked  Mr.  Jackson  whether  the  Prince 
was  up-stairs  or  down  when  he  received  the  British  Envoy.  44  He 
was  on  the  ground-floor,  please  your  Majesty.”  44  1 am  glad  of 
it,  for  your  sake,”  replied  the  King;  for  if  he  had  half  my  spirit, 
he  would  certainly  have  kicked  you  down-stairs.”  The  King  con- 
sented with  extreme  reluctance  to  our  interfering  with  Denmark 
at  all ; but  when  once  convinced  that  Denmark  was  under  coer- 
cion, and  must  obey  the  strongest  power  of  the  two  that  were 
acting  upon  her,  he  agreed  to  the  measures  that  self-defence  re- 
quired from  his  government,  and  supported  the  ministers  in  what 
they  had  to  do. 

Mr.  Jackson  had  been  escorted,  when  he  went  forth  on  his 
Seizure  of  mission,  by  twenty  ships  of  the  line,  forty  frigates  and 
the  Danish  other  assistant  vessels,  and  a fleet  of  transports,  con- 
veying 27,000  land  troops.  Admiral  Gambier  com- 
manded the  naval,  and  Lord  Cathcart  the  military,  expedition. 
These  forces  had  been  got  ready  within  a month,  with  great  abil- 
ity, and  under  perfect  secrecy ; and  before  the  final  orders  were 
given,  ministers  had  such  information  of  the  secret  articles  of  the 
Treaty  of  Tilsit  as  left  them  no  hesitation  whatever  about  seiz- 
ing the  Danish  fleet,  if  it  was  not  lent  quietly.  Denmark  held 
the  keys  of  the  Baltic.  Napoleon’s  soldiery  was  ready  to  pour 
into  her  territory  at  one  word  from  him  ; her  fleets  and  stores 
were  precisely  what  he  wanted  for  his  attacks  on  England  ; and 
it  was  distinctly  known  that  he  was  immediately  about  to  use 
them.  In  securing  the  Danish  fleet,  we  were  taking  it  from  Na- 
poleon, in  fact ; and  for  the  purpose  of  self-preservation.  When, 
therefore,  Mr.  Jackson  was  indignantly  dismissed  by  the  Crown 
Prince,  no  time  was  to  be  lost  in  seizing  the  fleet.  The  Prince 
sent  a messenger  with  all  speed  to  Copenhagen  to  command  that 
the  place  should  be  put  in  the  best  possible  state  of  defence. 
The  messenger  arrived  on  the  1 0th  of  August,  in  the  evening  ; 
and  great  was  the  consternation  in  the  city,  for  there  was  hardly  a 
gun  on  the  ramparts,  and  the  armed  troops  were  quite  insufficient 
for  the  crisis.  The  Prince  came  from  Kiel,  the  next  day,  to  give 
his  orders  in  person.  He  was  attended  only  by  his  court  officers, 
and  was  therefore  allowed  to  pass  through  the  British  fleet.  Mr. 
Jackson  followed  him,  to  make  one  more  effort  for  a peaceable 
agreement ; and  it  was  then  that  the  Prince  made  that  declara- 
tion about  the  value  of  the  English  alliance  which  has  before 
been  quoted.  The  next  day,  he  retired  into  Jutland.  Contrary 
winds  detained  the  English  ships  for  three  days  more  ; and  those 
three  days  were  diligently  used  by  the  Danes.1  One  piece  of 
preparation  sounds  now  very  strange  and  very  dreadful.  A 
1 Life  of  Lord  Eldon,  ii.  p.  56. 


Chap.  I.] 


CAPITULATION  OF  COPENHAGEN. 


241 


plank,  or  part  of  one,  was  removed  from  every  ship,  and  replaced 
by  a piece  of  thin  deal  so  painted  or  smeared  as  to  look  like  the 
adjoining  planks.  The  first  heavy  wave  would  have  driven  it  in, 
and  sunk  the  ship.  The  sinking  of  that  fleet,  with  our  sailors  on 
board,  would  have  been  such  a spectacle  as  the  world  never  saw  ; 
but  the  device  was  discovered  in  time.  On  the  15th,  the  forces 
were  landed  at  Wedbeck,  for  their  march  upon  Copenhagen,  and 
the  fleet  worked  up  before  the  city.  Once  more,  an  attempt  was 
made  to  avoid  extremities.  The  commanders  issued  a proclama- 
tion to  the  Danish  people,  declaring  the  cause  of  their  appear- 
ance, and  offering  to  withdraw  in  peace,  if  the  fleet  was  delivered 
up  as  a deposit,  to  be  restored  uninjured  at  the  close  of  the  war. 
If  it  was  not  so  delivered,  it  must  be  taken  ; and  Denmark  must 
be  responsible  for  the  consequences.  The  Crown  Prince  replied 
by  a proclamation,  amounting  to  a declaration  of  war.  He  or- 
dered the  seizure  of  all  British  vessels  and  property. 

And  now  the  affair  was  decided.  There  could  be  no  doubt  as 
to  what  the  end  must  be,  — so  vast  a force  being  sent  without 
notice,  in  a time  of  peace  between  the  two  countries,  against  an 
unprepared  city.  By  the  1st  of  September,  however,  Stralsund 
was  occupied  by  the  French ; and  part  of  the  British  force  was 
detached  to  watch  them ; and  this  proved  that  it  would  have  been 
fatal  to  lose  time.  By  the  8th  of  September,  all  was  over : the 
Danish  navy  and  arsenal  were  surrendered.  One  Bombard_ 
fourth  of  the  buildings  of  the  city  were  by  that  time  mentof 
destroyed  ; and  in  one  street,  500  persons  were  killed  CoPellha°el1- 
by  the  bombardment.  One  resident,  whose  house  was  near  the 
walls,  left  his  military  service  for  a moment,  to  remove  his  three 
daughters  to  a place  of  greater  safety.  All  the  three  were  killed 
by  the  bursting  of  a shell ; and  in  the  same  night  his  only  son 
fell  by  his  side,  while  both  were  fighting  on  the  walls.  The  next 
day,  when  the  British  were  passing  through  the  street,  the  old 
man  pointed  to  the  bodies  of  his  children,  and  fell  dead  beside 
them.  Many  were  the  hearts  so  broken  during  the  four  days  of 
the  bombardment ; and  we  find  an  Eldon  as  much  moved  as  a 
Wilberforce  at  the  details  of  the  intolerable  calamities  inflicted 
while  the  city  was  like  an  inhabited  volcano.  We  find  Arthur 
Wellesley  leading  the  negotiation,  on  the  part  of  the  British,  for 
the  surrender  of  the  fleet.  He  had  left  his  civil  post  as  Chief 
Secretary  for  Ireland  (to  which  he  presently  returned)  to  com- 
mand the  reserve  at  the  siege  of  Copenhagen,  where  he  was  the 
victor  in  some  outlying  conflicts.  He  was  sent  for  to  negotiate 
the  capitulation,  and  “ having  insisted  on  proceeding  immediately 
to  business/’ 1 as  was  his  wont,  the  terms  were  drawn  up  in  the 
night  between  the  6th  and  7th,  and  signed  the  next  day  ; so  that 
Wellington  Despatches,  iv.  p.  5. 


Vol.  i. 


212 


CONFISCATION  OF  DANISH  SHIPPING.  [Book  II 


the  entry  of  the  British  into  Copenhagen  took  place  on  the  8th. 
Plie  promptitude  of  spirit  of  Sir  Arthur  Wellesley  and  his  coad- 
jutors, Sir  Home  Popham  and  Lieut.-Gen.  Murray,  did  not  alto- 
gether suit  the  views  of  the  government  at  home.  It  was  be- 
lieved that  some  dissatisfaction  was  felt  at  the  agreement  to  evac- 
uate Zealand  as  soon  as  the  Danish  fleet  could  be  removed  ; and 
a.so  at  the  omission  to  secure  the  vessels  and  stores  remaining  in 
the  merchants’  docks,  in  consequence  of  which  a line  of  shipping 
was  actually  drawn  up  before  Copenhagen,  in  view  of  the  last  of 
our  fleet,  when  departing.  But  the  terms  included  and  secured 
all  the  avowed  objects  of  the  expedition.  Efforts  were  made  to 
conciliate  the  Danes,  after  all  was  over  ; but,  as  was  very  natural, 
in  vain.  Notice  was  even  given  by  them  that  British  flags  of  truce 
must  not  be  sent  within  gun-shot  range.  For  many  months,  the 
emotions  of  rage  and  horror  which  swelled  in  the  hearts  of  all 
Danes  continued  to  spread  over  the  world.1  On  the  28th  of  the 
next  January,  the  flame  of  war  caught  the  establishments  on 
the  banks  of  the  Hooghly.  It  was  the  birthday  of  the  King  of 
Denmark  ; and  the  residents  at  the  Danish  factory  in  Bengal 
had  invited  the  English,  as  usual,  to  a festival  in  honor  of  the 
day.  At  six  in  the  morning,  the  aged  chief  agent,  speechless 
with  horror,  showed  a countryman  the  British  flag  flying  from 
their  own  staff.  Every  Danish  ship  was  seized,  and  the  British, 
who  were  to  have  been  guests,  were  masters  of  the  Factory. 
The  youngest  Danes  present  have  felt  that  day  to  be  the  most 
intolerable  of  their  lives. 

Almost  as  soon  as  the  news  of  the  achievement  reached  Eng- 
Confiscation  ^ie  victors  brought  the  Danish  fleet  into  Ports- 

of  the  Danish  mouth  harbor.  One  of  the  most  painful  features  of 
shipping.  the  case  is  the  confiscation  which  ensued,  because 
the  surrender  was  not  made  quietly.  At  the  moment  of  the  at- 
tack, there  were  Danish  merchantmen  in  our  waters,  with  car- 
goes worth  2,000,000/.  These  we  took  possession  of ; and,  of 
course,  of  the  navy  which  we  had  carried  off  Lord  Sidmouth  2 
and  others  moved  in  parliament  for  such  custody  of  the  ships 
being  ordered  as  should  enable  us  to  restore  them  in  good  condi- 
tion at  the  end  of  the  war ; but  the  answer  was  that,  those  terms 
having  been  refused,  the  ships  were  ours  on  the  ground  preferred 
by  the  Danes  themselves.  This  was  true ; but  it  was  one  of 
those  truths  by  which  Napoleon’s  crimes  put  all  honorable  and 
humane  minds  to  the  torture.  It  is  with  a painful  sense  of  some- 
thing like  constructive  hypocrisy  that  we  read  now  of  the  efforts 
whic  h the  kind-hearted  men  of  the  time  made  to  get  rid  of  the 
moral  pains  of  the  occasion.  Wilberforce  3 rejoices  in  Admiral 

i Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  ii.  p.  496.  2 Hansard,  x.  p.  645. 

* Li  fa,  iii.  pp  346  -348. 


Chap.  I.|  CANNING  AND  HIS  JUSTIFICATION. 


243 


Gambier’s  ascription  of  the  glory  and  our  own  safety  to  Provi- 
dence ; is  consoled  at  the  hope  that  the  chief  injury  to  Copenha- 
gen was  done,  not  by  bombs,  but  by  rockets,  which  set  the  houses 
on  fire  without  killing  the  inhabitants;  (Congreve  was  there, 
making  trial  of  his  new  invention ;)  and  labors  at  a subscrip- 
tion for  the  relief  of  the  Danes  of  the  capital ; and  strives  to  per- 
suade his  friends  that  they  should  raise,  out  of  their  private 
means,  the  amount  of  the  soldiers’  and  sailors’  prize  money,  that 
the  Danish  ships  might  be  eventually  restored.  It  would  not  do. 
The  affair  could  not  be  deprived  of  its  character  of  a desperate 
and  exasperating  calamity,  for  which  Napoleon  was  answerable. 

With  the  next  session  began  Mr.  Canning’s  trial  of  temper 
and  courage  about  this  business.  He  bore  it  well.  The  occa- 
sion was  great,  and  he  trusted  that  time  would  justify  him.  It 
was  well,  perhaps,  that  he  did  not  know  how  long  the  time  would 
be.  The  Royal  Speech  1 declared  that  government  was  apprised 
of  an  intention  to  assail  us  with  the  fleets  of  Denmark  and  Port- 
ugal. The  Opposition  did  not  believe  it.  Mr.  Canning  declared 
that  the  plan  was  arranged  in  accordance  with  secret  articles  in 
the  Treaty  of  Tilsit.  The  Opposition  did  not  believe  it,  and 
pressed  for  proof.  He  had  none  to  produce  ; nor  could  he  de- 
clare his  authority.  His  bare  word  was  opposed  to  the  denials 
of  France  and  Russia.  When  he  read  extracts  from  official 
papers,  instead  of  giving  the  whole,  resolutions  of  grave  censure 
were  moved  against  him  by  Mr.  Adam; 2 and  Mr.  Canning  with- 
drew from  the  House  during  the  vote  upon  them.  Only  66 
voted  with  Mr.  Adam,  and  168  against  his  resolutions.  But  not 
the  less  did  Mr.  Canning’s  bare  word  stand  against  the  denials 
of  the  Tilsit  conspirators.  He  declared  his  intention  of  keeping 
his  secret  through  any  censures  that  the  speeches  in  parliament 
might  excite  against  the  Ministry  in  the  country  ; and  when  he 
said  this,  he  knew  that  many  honest  and  sensible  men  believed 
that  the  Ministers  had  acted  in  a panic,  and  that  there  were 
no  secret  articles  whatever  appended  to  the  Treaty  of  Tilsit. 
When  many  of  the  leading  men  of  that  time  were  dead,  and 
when  Canning  himself  had  but  a year  or  two  more  to  number, 
his  justification  arose  from  an  unexpected  quarter.3  The  “ Me- 
moirs of  Fouche”  were  published  in  Paris  in  1824;  and  they 
contained  a passage  which  Canning  must  have  read  with  a singu- 
lar mixture  of  feelings.  “ About  that  time  it  was,”  says  Fouche, 
or  the  scribe  instructed  by  him,  “ that  we  learned  the  success  of 
the  attack  upon  Copenhagen  by  the  English,  which  was  the  first 
derangement  of  the  secret  stipulations  of  Tilsit,  by  virtue  of 
which  the  Danish  fleet  was  to  be  placed  at  the  disposal  of  France. 
Since  the  death  of  Paul  I.,  I never  saw  Napoleon  give  himself 
1 Hansard,  x.  p.  2.  2 Ibid.  p.  904.  3 Life  of  Canning,  p.  237. 


244 


RUSSIAN  DECLARATION  OE  WAR.  [Book  IL 


up  to  such  violent  transports  of  passion.  That  which  astounded 
him  most  in  that  vigorous  enterprise  was  the  promptitude  with 
which  the  English  Ministry  took  their  resolution.”  He  was  dis- 
posed to  suspect  Talleyrand  of  treachery.  But  there  had  not 
been  time  for  Talleyrand  to  give  the  information ; and  Napoleon 
had  now  to  learn  that  the  British  Cabinet  had  ceased  to  be  desti- 
tute of  all  sagacity  and  vigor  about  foreign  affairs.  The  publi- 
cation of  this  passage  settled  the  matter  of  the  accuracy  of  the 
information  on  which  Ministers  proceeded ; and  the  speculation 
that  remained  among  the  elderly  men  whose  minds  were  carried 
back  to  1807  was  how  Canning  came  to  know  the  facts.  After 
nearly  another  score  of  years,  the  publication  of  the  Malmes- 
bury Diaries  informed  the  world  that  it  was  the  Prince  Regent 
of  Portugal  who  gave  the  warning  to  the  Prince  of  Wales.  — 
Lest  we  should  treat  the  Portuguese  navy  as  we  had  treated  the 
Danish,  Napoleon  detained  it  in  the  ports  of  France. 

The  amazement  of  Alexander,  when  the  news  reached  him, 
Russian  was  scarcety  less  than  that  of  his  new  ally.  He 
declaration  ordered  his  Minister  to  demand  in  strong  terms  of 
the  British  Ambassador1  what  it  meant.  The  Am- 
bassador, Lord  G.  Leveson,  had  received  no  instructions  upon 
the  case  ; but  he  said,  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  the  best  thing 
he  could  have  said  — the  truth,  in  the  shortest  phrase.  His  re- 
ply was  “self-preservation.”  Alexander  was  uneasy  in  mind. 
His  people  were  discontented  with  his  transactions  at  Tilsit ; 
the  English  fleet  was  riding  in  the  Baltic,  and  might  at  any  mo- 
ment attack  his  Finnish  possessions  ; and  England  had  just 
proved  that  she  was  not  so  apathetic  as  she  had  compelled  him 
to  think  her.  His  Minister,  Budberg,  became  suddenly  kind  to 
the  English  Ambassador,  and  confiding,  after  having  shown  great 
haughtiness  and  reserve.  He  whispered  his  private  opinion  that 
the  Peace  of  Tilsit  could  not  last ; that  it  was  agreed  upon  to 
gain  breathing  time ; and  that  very  soon,  Russia,  Austria,  and 
England,  must  be  again  in  alliance.  The  Russian  people  were, 
in  fact,  as  well  disposed  towards  us  at  that  time  as  ever  ; and  it 
was  this  consideration  which  at  once  made  Alexander  court  our 
Minister,  and  inclined  our  Ambassador  not  to  use  the  power,  by 
this  time  confided  to  him  from  home,  of  summoning  a large 
amount  of  naval  force  to  invade  the  ports  of  Russia.  It  was 
very  well  that  Lord  G.  Leveson  declined  instigating  a violence 
which  could  have  done  no  real  good  ; but,  as  soon  as  the  British 
fleet  had  left  the  Baltic,  the  Emperor  and  his  Minister  grew 
cold;  and  in  October,  Russia  declared  war  against  England*  in 
a manner  so  little  calm  and  reasonable  as  to  compel  the  conclu- 
sion that  Alexander  was  under  the  orders  of  Napoleon,  and 
1 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  401. 


Chap.  I.] 


THE  KING  OF  SWEDEN. 


245 


dared  not  disobey.  The  ground  assigned  was  the  rejection  by 
England  of  Alexanders  mediation  with  Napoleon ; but  none 
could  have  known  better  than  Alexander  that  such  mediation 
was  out  of  the  question  till  he  should  choose  to  afford  to  the 
English  government  as  full  a knowledge  of  all  the  provisions  of 
the  Treaty  of  Tilsit  as  was  possessed  by  the  other  party  to  the 
quarrel  which  he  was  to  settle.  This  he  incessantly  refused. 
His  Minister,  as  we  have  seen,  spoke  slightingly  of  the  Treaty  ; 
but  this  did  not  divert  the  British  government  from  its  demands ; 
and  the  importance  of  the  Treaty  to  Alexander  was  proved  by 
the  necessity  it  laid  him  under  of  declaring  war  against  Great 
Britain1  £y  proclamation  on  the  31st  of  October  ensuing. 

The  only  potentate  now  standing  out  against  the  conqueror 
was  the  brave,  high-minded,  but  eccentric  and  rash  King  of 
King  of  Sweden.  In  the  spring  of  this  year,  he  was  Sweden- 
holding  in  blockade  the  principal  ports  of  the  Baltic,  though  an 
armistice  had  been  agreed  upon  between  himself  (now  command- 
ing his  troops  in  Pomerania)  and  the  French  Marshal  Brune. 
They  met,  on  the  4th  of  June,  to  confer  on  what  was  the  real 
duration  of  the  armistice  ; and  the  young  King  embarrassed  the 
Marshal  extremely  by  appealing  to  his  intellect,  his  conscience, 
and  his  heart,  on  behalf  of  the  Bourbons,  — Louis  XVIII.  and 
some  of  his  family  being  at  that  time  the  guests  of.  Sweden.2 
This  strange  conference  presently  found  its  way,  under  royal 
sanction,  into  the  newspapers,  to  the  great  discomfort,  no  doubt, 
of  Marshal  Brune.  The  King  held  Stralsund,  and  was  still  for- 
tifying the  island  of  Riigen,  where  8000  British  troops  were  sent 
to  his  aid,  while  our  Copenhagen  expedition  was  preparing  and 
setting  forth ; but,  before  the  English  had  accomplished  the  en- 
terprise, he  was  obliged  to  relinquish  Stralsund.  He  destroyed 
all  the  cannon  and  magazines,  however,  and  stole  out  without 
noise,  leaving  an  unprofitable  conquest  to  Marshal  Brune.  Yet, 
as  has  been  mentioned,  it  was  necessary  for  the  British  to  detach 
a portion  of  their  force  to  watch  the  French  in  that  direction. 
The  rest  of  the  story  of  Sweden,  in  that  struggle,  is  soon  told. 
In  the  beginning  of  the  next  year,  the  Swedes  might  have  made 
peace  with  both  France  and  Russia;  but  the  King  and  his  peo- 
ple were  alike  resolved  not  to  agree  to  such  a pacification  as 
would  make  them  accomplices  in  the  subjugation  of  Europe; 
they  declared  for  war,  and  endured  bravely  many  of  its  worst 
inflictions.  Russia  plotted  for  the  deposition  of  the  King,  sus- 
pecting that  it  was  his  chivalrous  spirit  that  sustained  that  of  the 
nation  ; but  his  people  were  faithful  to  him,  except  in  the  in- 
stance of  the  surrender  of  one  fortress  and  flotilla  by  treachery. 
Russia  was  too  powerful,  however;  and  in  November,  1808, 
1 Annual  Register,  1807,  p.  761.  2 Ibid.  p.  727. 


246 


SWEDISH  ALLIANCE  LOST. 


[Book  II. 


Finland  was  virtually  given  up  to  Alexander  ; and  Sweden  was 
thus  deprived  of  her  great  granary,  and  destined  to  ruin.  Eng- 
land had  of  late  aided  her  vigorously,  driving  the  Russian  navy 
into  port,  and  blockading  them  there ; and  sending  Sir  John 
Moore,  with  10,000  men,  in  May,  when  France,  Russia,  and 
Denmark  were  all  advancing  to  crush  the  gallant  Swedes.  Sir 
John  Moore  found  the  King  in  what  he  thought  a very  wild 
state  of  mind,  proposing  conquests,  when  he  had  not  forces 
enough  for  defensive  operations.  All  agreement  in  their  views 
was  found  to  be  impossible  : the  King  resented  the  Englishman’s 
caution ; Sir  John  Moore  thought  the  King  so  nearly  mad  that 
he  made  off  in  disguise  from  Stockholm,  and  brought  back  his 
troops,  which  had  never  been  landed.  The  unhappy  Bourbons 
now  found  themselves  unsafe  in  Sweden;  and  in  August,  Louis 
XVIII.,  with  the  Queen  and  the  Duchess  d’Angouleme,  landed 
in  England  — the  last  station  of  their  wanderings,  before  their 
restoration  to  France.  From  that  time,  they  lived  quietly  at 
Hartwell.  There  was  now  no  other  country  in  Europe  which 
could  afford  them  a secure  asylum  from  their  foe. 

After  the  relinquishment  of  Finland,  the  Swedish  people 
found  they  could  endure  no  more.  Besides  Finland,  they  had 
lost  Pomerania  ; they  were  reduced  to  want ; they  were  thinned 
by  pestilence  as  well  as  by  war  ; but  the  King’s  ruling  idea  was 
to  continue  the  conflict  to  the  last.  Notwithstanding  the  armis- 
tice, he  intended  to  renew  the  struggle  at  the  first  possible  mo- 
ms deposi-  ment.  As  the  only  way  to  preserve  their  existence, 
tion*  his  subjects  gently  deposed  him,  and  put  the  admin- 

istration of  affairs  into  the  hands  of  his  aged  uncle,  the  Duke 
of  Sudermania.  The  poor  King  was  arrested  on  the  13th  of 
March,  1809,  as  he  was  setting  out  for  his  count ry-seat.  He 
drew  his  sword,  but  was  immediately  restrained,  and  placed  in 
imprisonment,  for  a short  time.  His  uncle,  at  first  called  Re- 
gent, was  soon  made  King.  He  declared  his  intention  of  remain- 
ing faithful  to  Sweden’s  excellent  ally,  Great  Britain  ; and  for 
a time,  he  sustained  the  assaults  of  Russia.  But  it 
aUiance  lost.  cou^  not  be  for  long.  Peace  was  made  with  Russia 
in  September,  1809,  and  with  France  in  the  following 
January.  Pomerania  was  restored  to  Sweden,  but  not  Finland; 
and  she  had  to  make  great  sacrifices.  Perhaps  the  most  painful 
was  her  good  understanding  with  Great  Britain.  She  was  com- 
pelled to  bear  her  part  in  the  Continental  System  of  Napoleon, 
and  to  shut  her  ports  against  all  communication  with  England. 
Thus  were  we  deprived  of  the  last  of  our  allies  in  the  north  of 
Europe ; and  we  found  ourselves  standing  out  alone  against  the 
whole  power  of  the  Continent. 

After  the  peace  of  Tilsit,  Napoleon  turned  himself  to  the 


Chap.  I.] 


THE  PENINSULAR  WAR. 


247 


southern  ally  of  Great  Britain,  to  injure  and  humble  the  English 
in  that  direction.  Pie  detained  the  Portuguese  ships  France  and 
which  were  in  his  power,  in  order  to  prevent  (as  has  Portugal, 
been  said)  their  being  seized  like  the  Danish  navy  ; and  he  re- 
quired of  the  Prince  Regent  of  Portugal  three  things  which  the 
Prince  was  in  no  condition  to  refuse  : that  he  should  shut  his 
ports  against  the  English  ; that  he  should  detain  all  Englishmen 
residing  in  Portugal ; and  that  he  should  confiscate  all  the  Eng- 
lish property  in  Portugal.  He  must  do  this  immediately,  under 
penalty  of  invasion.  The  Prince  agreed  to  the  first,  but  remon- 
strated about  the  two  others,  as  contrary  to  all  principles  of  law, 
and  all  obligations  of  treaties.  He  knew  that  remonstrance  was 
of  no  avail ; but  he  gained  time  by  it.  He  prepared  for  removal 
to  Brazil,  and  gave  notice  to  the  English  to  sell  their  property 
and  depart.  It  was  not  till  he  believed  that  they  had  done  this 
pretty  completely,  and  exported  their  property,  in  one  form  or 
another,  that  he  shut  his  ports.  In  answer  to  the  Emperor’s 
insolent  prohibition  to  him  to  go  to  Brazil,  he  said  that  would 
depend  on  the  conduct  of  France  towards  Portugal.  On  the 
first  movement  towards  the  invasion  of  their  country,  the  royal 
family  would  sail  for  Brazil. 

There  was  no  surprise  to  England  in  these  proceedings.  Mr. 
Fox’s  negotiators  had  discovered  at  Paris  in  July,  1806,1  that 
Napoleon  intended  to  take  Portugal  from  the  Braganza  family, 
and  divide  and  bestow  it  for  his  own  convenience  ; and  for  some 
time  past  an  army  under  Junot  had  been  gathering  at  the  foot 
of  the  Pyrenees,  the  destination  of  which  was  understood  to  be 
Portugal.  The  spirits  of  the  Portuguese  had  long  been  sus- 
tained only  by  British  encouragement,  and  the  presence  of  Eng- 
lish ships  in  the  Tagus.  It  was  well  known,  at  the  same  time, 
that  Napoleon  was  promising  to  give  away  this  and  that  portion 
of  the  Spanish  territories,  without  the  ceremony  of  asking  leave 
of  his  ally,  the  King  of  Spain  ; and  the  subjugation  of  the  whole 
Peninsula  was  certainly  expected,  after  the  summer  of  1806. 
The  Prussian  business  delayed  proceedings  ; but  now  that  it  was 
settled,  it  was  clear  that  the  Peninsula  scheme  was  to  be  resumed. 
By  the  end  of  August,  when  the  English  were  engaged  before 
Copenhagen,  Junot’s  army  under  the  Pyrenees  amounted  to 
25,000  foot,  and  3000  horse.  On  the  17th  of  Octo-  opening  of 
her,  Junot  received  his  orders  from  the  Emperor  ; and  the  Peninsu- 
on  the  19th  his  forces  crossed  the  Bidassoa,  thus  giv-  larwar- 
ing  notice  that  the  war  against  the  Peninsula  was  begun. 

There  were  two  parties  at  the  Court  of  Spain  at  this  time,  the 
position  of  which  it  is  necessary  to  glance  at,  in  order  court  of 
to  understand  the  nature  of  the  struggle  between  sPain- 
1 Lord  Yarmouth’s  Despatch,  July  19th,  1806. 


248 


NAPOLEONIC  AIMS  AND  INTRIGUES.  [Book  II. 


Great  Britain  and  Napoleon  in  the  Peninsula  during  the  course 
of  years  now  to  be  entered  upon.  The  King  of  Spain,  Charles 
IV.,1  was  indolent,  bookish,  and  fond  of  the  pursuits  of  private 
life  ; and  therefore  very  glad  to  let  his  queen  manage  state  af- 
fairs. She  was  a spirited,  but  an  abandoned  woman ; the  mistress 
of  a man  whom  she  had  raised  from  a low  station.  This  man, 
Godoy,  now  held  the  high  rank  of  Prince  of  the  Peace,  and  found 
everything  that  he  desired  so  easy  to  obtain  that  his  desires  had 
by  this  time  extended  to  the  crown  itself.  He  had  arrived  at 
wishing  to  be  the  founder  of  a new  dynasty.  This  man,  and 
the  King  and  Queen  with  their  creatures,  were  one  party. 
The  other  was,  as  usual,  that  of  the  Heir  Apparent.  The 
Prince  of  Asturias  — since  the  well-known  Ferdinand  VII. — 
was  now  twenty-four  years  of  age,  and  a widower,  after  a mar- 
riage of  four  years’  duration  with  a princess  of  the  Neapolitan 
family.  The  Prince  was  surrounded  by  the  agents  of  Godoy  ; 
but  he  had  two  adherents  who  were  hostile  to  Godoy.  The  one 
was  the  Count  Alvarez,  too  virtuous  to  stand  his  ground  in  such 
a Court ; and  a priest,  the  Canon  Escoiquiz,  who  had  obtained  a 
complete  ascendancy  over  the  Prince,  and  managed  all  his  affairs. 
The  deceased  Princess  had  hated,  and  effectually  counteracted, 
Godoy.  Now  that  she  was  gone,  Godoy’s  aim  was  to  get  rid  of 
the  Prince’s  advisers,  and  marry  him  to  the  sister  of  his  own 
wife,  a niece  of  the  King.  The  Prince  had  just  escaped  from  this 
scheme,  and  resumed  confidential  intercourse  with  his  favorite 
Napoleon’s  Priest>  when  Napoleon  stepped  in  to  manage  these 
aims  and  family  affairs,  in  1807.  He  contrived  that,  by  Octo- 

mtngues.  ber?  Ferdinand  should  write  to  him  an  earnest  permis- 
sion to  be  allowed  to  marry  a princess  of  the  family  of  Bona- 
parte. Already,  however,  by  the  time  it  arrived,  Napoleon’s 
views  had  become  extended.  He  was  negotiating  with  an  agent 
of  Godoy’s  party,  about  measures  which  he  thought  would  ena- 
ble him  to  take  Spain  altogether  from  the  Bourbons,  and  give  it 
to  a subservient  member  of  his  own  family ; and  he  therefore 
sent  no  answer  whatever  to  Ferdinand’s  letter.  According  to 
the  new  negotiation,  Portugal  was  to  be  divided  ; and  the  south- 
ern part  was  to  be  given,  as  a Principality,  to  Godoy.  The 
northern  part  was  to  be  delivered  over  to  the  King  of  Etruria, 
in  exchange  for  Tuscany,  which  Napoleon  himself  was  to  ap- 
propriate. The  Emperor  bound  himself  to  preserve  Spain  to 
Charles  ; but  it  is  clearly  known  that  he  at  the  moment  intended  to 
dethrone  Charles.  Long  before  this,  promises  had  ceased  to  cost 
him  anything.  The  contracting  parlies  were  to  lose  no  time  in 
carrying  out  their  scheme.  Junot’s  army  was  immediately  to 
march  across  Spain,  at  the  expense  of  Spain,  and  invade  Portu- 
1 Alison’s  History,  vi.  p.  514. 


Chap.  I.] 


INVASION  OF  PORTUGAL. 


249 


gal ; and  Spanish  forces  were  at  the  same  time  t*>  invade  the 
Portuguese  provinces  at  different  points.  Another  French  force 
of  40,000  men  was  to  assemble  at  Bayonne,  to  be  ready  in  case 
of  England  affording  aid  to  Portugal ; but  this  force  was  not  to 
enter  Spain,  on  any  account,  without  the  consent  of  both  Charles 
and  Napoleon.  Notice  was  given  to  Alexander  of  this  agree- 
ment, and  of  its  immediate  object  — the  making  Napoleon  mas- 
ter of  Lisbon  and  the  Portuguese  shipping  that  remained  there  ; 
and,  according  to  orders,  Alexander  sent  round  his  squadron 
from  the  Dardanelles  to  the  mouth  of  the  Tagus.  It  is  notice- 
able that  this  arrangement  was  made  some  time  before  Alexan- 
der’s declaration  of  war  against  England. 

Junot’s  orders  were  to  march  rapidly,  proclaiming  everywhere 
that  he  came  in  friendship  and  affection,  with  the  sole  invasion  of 
purpose  of  defending  Portugal  from  the  aggressions  Portugal, 
of  England ; but  he  was,  under  any  circumstances  whatever,  to 
make  himself  master  of  Lisbon  and  of  the  fleet  by  the  30th  of 
November.  The  circumstances  were  mournful  enough.  In  or- 
der to  fulfil  the  Emperor’s  commands,  Junot  pressed  forward  his 
forces  till  they  were  disorganized  by  suffering.  Such  was  the 
badness  of  the  roads,  the  force  of  the  streams,  the  scarcity  of  food, 
the  hardships  of  every  sort,  that  the  army  was  routed,  as  if  by  an 
enemy  that  could  cope  with  its  own  Napoleon.  The  pillage  of 
the  inhabitants  was  a matter  of  necessity.  If  there  had  but 
been  some  one  to  lead  an  opposition  to  the  invaders,  they  could 
not  have  reached  Lisbon  in  time  — nor  at  all.  They  struggled 
into  Lisbon  in  small  parties,  feeble  and  in  wretched  plight,  by  the 
end  of  November.  By  that  time,  the  English  Ambassador 1 had 
taken  down  the  national  arms  from  his  gate ; and  gone  on  board 
Sir  Sidney  Smith’s  fleet  in  the  Tagus.  The  inhabitants  wept 
his  departure ; but  it  was  rendered  necessary  by  the  hostile  acts 
of  the  government,  under  the  requisition  of  Napoleon.  These 
acts  were  known  to  be  enforced  ; and  they  were  not  therefore  to 
be  resented ; but  they  compelled  the  departure  of  Lord  Strang- 
ford  and  his  embassy  from  the  city.  When,  however,  Napoleon  s 
newspaper  at  Paris  announced,  under  the  date  of  the  1 3th  of 
November,  “ The  House  of  Braganza  has  ceased  to  reign,”  Lord 
Strangford  landed,  offered  the  friendship  of  England  again  to  the 
reigning  family,  and  notified  that  Sir  Sidney  Smith  was  bringing 
up  his  ships,  to  receive  them,  if  they  would  seek  safety  in  their 
distant  dominions  till  better  days  should  dawn.  News  arrived 
just  then  that  Spanish  troops  were  entering  Portugal  at  differ- 
ent points ; and  Lord  Strangford  knew  why ; for  he  had  sent 
home  a copy  of  the  secret  treaty  in  virtue  of  which  these  things 
were  done.  The  Court  made  its  final  decision  for  going  to 
1 Annual  Register,  1807,  p.  280. 


250  PORTUGAL  IN  THE  HAND  OF  NAPOLEON.  [Book  II. 


Brazil.  In  one  day,  the  British  sailors,  delighted  at  the  deter- 
mination, got  ready  vessels  enough  to  convey  the  whole  crowd 
of  adherents  to  royalty  that  were  pressing  for  a passage. 

It  was  a mournful  sight,  that  departure.  The  archives  of  the 
kingdom,  and  the  treasure  and  plate  of  the  royal  fam- 
oftheroyai  ily,  went  first ; and  then  came  the  long  train  of  car- 
Brazii  f°r  riages  which  conveyed  the  fifteen  royal  personages  and 
their  attendants.  The  Queen  was  insane,  and  had 
been  secluded  for  sixteen  years.1  She  was  on  this  day  calm,  and 
quite  aware  of  what  was  done,  and  courageous  in  the  doing. 
The  rest  were  pale  and  weeping,  but  resolute.  They  did  not 
expect  ever  to  return  ; and  the  crowd,  even  more  sympathizing 
than  alarmed,  did  not  expect  that  they  would.  The  first  token 
of  good  cheer  was  the  salute  fired  by  the  British  vessels,  as  the 
royal  fleet  passed  among  them.  That  sound  reminded  the  for- 
lorn Portuguese  that  they  were  not  friendless.  But  the  people 
on  shore  were  superstitious ; and  at  this  hour,  and  when  their 
minds  were  full  of  the  cruel  words,  “ The  House  of  Braganza  has 
ceased  to  reign,”  an  eclipse  of  the  sun  made  itself  felt.  In  deep 
dejection  the  people  returned  home,  when  the  last  sail  had  disap- 
peared ; and  the  first  object  they  saw  was  the  head  of  Junot’s 
first  column,  come  to  take  possession  of  the  heights  of  Belem. 
Junot  saw  those  last  sails  ; and  so  strong  was  his  passion,  at  hav- 
ing missed  capturing  the  royal  family,  that  he,  with  his  own  hand, 
fired  a cannon-shot  at  a merchant  vessel  which  had  been  detained, 
and  was  setting  sail  after  the  fleet. 

In  a few  hours  more,  cannon  were  posted  in  the  streets  of  Lis- 
bon ; the  people  were  laid  under  ruinous  contribution,  and  pro- 
hibited from  meeting  in  greater  numbers  than  ten.  Portugal 
was  in  the  hand  of  Napoleon.  The  valuable  island  of  Madeira 
was,  however,  confided  to  British  care,  to  be  restored  at  the  con 
elusion  of  the  war,  if  such  a time  should  arrive  before  the  pros- 
tration of  the  whole  world. 

It  was  now  for  England  to  consider  — and  never  had  she  a 
more  serious  matter  to  ponder  — whether  she  should  leave  the 
Peninsula  to  the  tender  mercies  of  Napoleon,  or  make  it  a final 
battle-ground  on  which  their  quarrel  should  be  decided.  The 
importance  of  the  decision  was  supreme,  because  the  quarrel  of 
England  had  now  become  that  of  Europe  ; and  the  vital  quarrel 
of  Europe  must  ever  be  that  of  the  world. 

1 Alison’s  History,  vi.  p.  530. 


Chap.  II.J  ARREST  OF  PRINCE  OF  ASTURIAS. 


251 


CHAPTER  II. 

While  Napoleon  was  busy  in  the  north  of  Europe,  he  had 
never  lost  sight  of  his  aims  in  the  Peninsula ; and  he  Napoleon  and 
had  induced  his  ally  of  Spain  to  furnish  him  with  the  the  Spanish 
finest  of  his  soldiery,  in  large  numbers.  The  flower  Bourbons- 
of  the  Spanish  army  was  in  Pomerania,  or  Hanover,  or  wher- 
ever they  could  be  stationed  farthest  from  any  summons  of 
their  sovereign.  He  next  kept  a vigilant  eye  on  the  dissensions 
in  the  royal  family  of  Spain,  which  he  did  his  best  to  aggravate, 
while  declaring  that  he  could  not  attend  to  other  people’s  domes- 
tic quarrels.  Godoy’s  spies  discovered,  in  the  autumn  of  1807, 
that  the  Prince  of  Asturias  was  thoughtful,  absent,  and  embar- 
rassed ; and  the  Spanish  Minister  at  Paris  wrote  to  Godoy,  that 
there  was  certainly  some  secret  between  Ferdinand  and  the 
French  government.  The  Prince’s  papers  were  seized.  Some 
were  in  cipher,  written  by  the  Prince  himself,  and  some  by  his 
deceased  wife  to  her  mother  at  Naples.  In  these  there  was  no 
criminality,  though  they  showed  that  he  had  secrets,  and  that  he 
and  his  people  hated  Godoy  and  his  agents.  But  there  was  a 
paper  sealed  with  black,  which  conferred  a commission  after 
Charles  IV.  should  have  ceased  to  reign.  The  Prince  explained 
that  this  was  prepared  as  a precaution  against  Godoy’s  designs 
of  seizing  the  crown  on  the  death  of  the  King.  Though  it 
were  so,  it  was  a painful  and  shocking  circumstance  for  the 
King  to  discover.  Godoy  made  the  most  of  it ; and  the  Prince 
was  committed  to  prison,  on  a charge  of  conspiracy  against  his 
father’s  life  and  throne.  This  was  in  October.  The  Prince  at 
length  confessed  that  his  secret  correspondence  with  France  was 
about  obtaining  a vvife  from  the  Bonaparte  family,  in  order  to 
escape  the  peril  of  being  compelled  to  marry  Godoy’s  sister-in- 
law.  This  confession,  corroborated  by  testimony  from  Paris 
that  the  Prince  and  Napoleon  had  certainly  some  secrets,  alarmed 
the  Court  party  lest  they  should  bring  down  the  conqueror’s 
vengeance  on  themselves.  The  Prince  wrote  penitential  letters, 
imploring  pardon  of  his  parents  for  having  acted  a disobedient 
part ; the  King  proclaimed  that  the  parental  heart  had  disarmed 
the  hand  of  justice  ; and  the  charge  was  hushed  up.  There  was 


252 


FRENCH  INVASION  OF  SPAIN. 


[Book  II 


a show  of  bringing  to  trial  the  Prince’s  confidants,  on  an  accusa- 
tion of  treason  ; but  they  were  all  acquitted.  Care  was  taken 
to  keep  them  and  the  Prince  apart.  The  walls  of  fortresses,  or 
wide  spaces  of  land  and  sea,  were  interposed  between  them ; 
and  Napoleon  looked  on,  with  a keen  insight,  perceiving  that  no 
cordial  understanding  could  ever  again  exist  between  father  and 
son,  and  that  he  could  make  use  of  their  hatred  to  rid  himself 
of  them  both.  “I  never,”  he  said  to  O’Meara,1  “excited  the 
King  of  Spain  against  his  son.  I saw  them  envenomed  against 
each  other,  and  thence  conceived  the  design  of  deriving  advan- 
tage to  myself,  and  dispossessing  both.” 

First,  in  November,  he  increased  his  40,000  men  on  the 
French  frontier  to  60,000  ; and  he  ordered  them  into  Spain 

invasion  without  asking  that  consent  of  the  King  which  was 

of  Spam.  stipulated  for  in  the  treaty.  They  were  seen  taking 

the  road,  not  for  Lisbon,  but  for  Madrid  ; and  there  was  no  need 
of  them  at  Lisbon,  the  Portuguese  being  so  unresisting  that 
Junot  was  marching  on  without  seeing  a soldier  along  his  whole 
route.  Moreover,  two  bodies  of  this  army  marched  as  far  away 
from  Portugal  as  could  be,  — one  down  upon  the  Ebro,  and  the 
other  towards  Barcelona.  The  Court  began  to  be  somewhat 
uneasy  at  these  demonstrations  ; but  they  had  bound  themselves 
to  Napoleon  for  the  guilty  hire  of  the  spoliation  of  Portugal ; 
and  they  dared  not  call  their  master  to  account.  He  was  him- 
self in  Italy,  fixing  the  attention  of  the  world  upon  his  brilliant 
doings  there  ; and  nobody,  out  of  the  Peninsula,  seemed  to  be 
observing  how  the  French  armies  were  lengthening  themselves 
out  over  the  highways  of  Spain,  while  the  Bourbon  Court  sat 
trembling  and  watching  for  the  movement  to  explain  itself. 
There  was  a man  in  England,  however,  whose  business  it  was 
to  watch  over  continental  transactions ; and  he  had  a keen  eye, 
which  was  noting  everything.  Next,  in  January,  as  soon  as 
Napoleon  had  returned  to  Paris,  he  required  a levy  of  80,000 
men,  forestalling  the  conscription  of  1809.  Throughout  France, 
the  parents  sighed,  and  said  they  thought  the  Treaty  of  Tilsit 
was  to  have  given  them  peace.  The  levy  was  said  to  be  against 
England ; but  the  new  soldiery  were  marched  south.  When 
over  the  frontier,  they  played  snowball  with  Spanish  garrisons, 
or  drank  with  the  soldiers,  or  obtained  admission  as  sick  of 
feigned  diseases  into  garrison  hospitals,  or  wore  long  cloaks 
with  arms  underneath,  or  quarrelled  and  fought  — all  by 
express  order ; and  thus  got  into  one  Pyrenean  fortress  after 
another,  till  Spain  lay  as  open  to  French  invasion  as  if  the 
mountains  had  been  razed.  St.  Sebastian,  Pamplona,  Bar- 
celona, and  Figueras,  were  garrisoned  by  the  French  by  the 
1 O’Meara,  ii.  p.  160. 


Chap.  II.]  DESPERATE  CONDITION  OF  AFFAIRS. 


253 


middle  of  March.  When  Godoy  was  importuned  for  instruc- 
tions by  dismayed  commandants,  he  replied  that  he  did  not  see 
how  resistance  was  possible.  Next,  the  monasteries  were  taken 
for  barracks,  and  the  monks  turned  out  to  shift  for  themselves. 
Wagon-loads  of  biscuits,  baked  at  Bayonne  and  other  French 
towns  on  the  frontier,  were  brought  down,  and  laid  up  in  store ; 
and,  as  a decisive  act,  the  Spanish  magistracy  in  the  towns  north 
of  the  Ebro  were  displaced,  to  make  way  for  French  officials. 
Without  a word  of  explanation,  or  the  firing  of  a single  shot, 
the  whole  of  the  north  of  Spain  had  become  French  before 
Aprii,  1808;  and  the  Spanish  navy  had  been  removed  to  the 
harbor  of  Toulon.  Portugal  had  become  French  before  the 
winter  was  over.  The  symbols  of  Portuguese  nationality  had 
been  effaced ; and  the  French  arms  and  authorities  were  every- 
where : in  the  provinces  that  had  been  promised  to  Godoy,  no 
less  than  in  Lisbon.  In  rage  and  dismay,  Godoy  heard  of 
Junot’s  having  assumed  the  entire  government  of  the  whole  of 
Portugal,  in  the  name  of  Napoleon.  The  inhabitants  of  Lisbon 
were  groaning  under  the  enormous  exactions  of  the  French 
General;  and  in  the  country,  the  despairing  peasantry  refused 
to  sow  their  fields  ; in  the  courts,  the  old  laws  were  gone,  and 
the  Code  Napoleon  was  set  up  ; and  many  of  the  native  soldiery 
made  themselves  free  of  all  law,  becoming  robbers  in  the  moun- 
tains. Such  was  the  condition  of  Godoy’s  promised  territory. 
He  sat  watching,  trembling  and  wrathful,  and  doing  nothing. 
The  keen-eyed  man  who  sat  in  the  Foreign  Office  in  London 
was  watching  too,  but  not  idly  nor  in  fear.  He  was  preparing 
to  invite  the  British  nation  to  make  these  outraged  countries  a 
final  battle-field  for  the  liberties  of  Europe. 

When  the  Queen  of  Etruria  came  to  Madrid,  having  given  up 
her  dominions  without  receiving,  or  having  any  chance  of  receiv- 
ing, the  promised  equivalent  of  Portuguese  territory,  the  Court 
saw  that  their  affairs  were  indeed  desperate.  The  fact  had  come 
out,  in  conversation  in  Paris,  that  Ferdinand’s  title  was  to  be,  no 
longer  Prince  of  Asturias,  but  Prince  of  the  Indies.  More  troops 
were  pouring  over  the  Bidassoa  ; and  at  last,  the  Imperial  Guard 
itself.  Napoleon  sent  to  Charles  a present  of  twelve  fine  horses, 
and  was  coming  himself  to  Madrid  to  talk  over  the  affairs  of  the 
Peninsula.  Godoy  persuaded  the  King  and  Queen  to  go  down 
to  Seville,  to  sail  for  their  American  dominions,  as  the  Braganza 
family  had  done.  The  Prince  could  not  determine  whether  to 
go  or  stay.  The  secret  got  out ; the  people  were  in  a ferment 
at  the  prospect  of  being  so  left ; the  French  ambassador  thought 
it  a great  pity  that  such  a step  should  be  taken.  On  the  morn- 
ing of  the  day  of  departure,  the  Prince  was  heard  to  say  he 
would  not  go ; and  the  citizens  resolved  that  he  should  not  be 


254 


ABDICATION  OF  CHARLES  IV. 


[Book  II. 


carried  away  by  force.  When  the  carriages  drew  up  in  the 
Tumult  at  evening,  the  .people  gathered  round  them,  and  cut  the 

Madrid.  traces,  and  declared  that  nobody  should  go.  They 

hunted  Godoy  for  his  life ; and  he  escaped  only  by  hiding  him- 
self under  some  mats  in  a garret ; but  his  wife,  to  whom  he 
was  known  to  be  outrageously  unfaithful,  was  protected,  and 
safely  lodged  in  the  palace.  This  was  the  beginning  of  a revolu- 
tion which  ended,  in  three  days,  in  the  abdication  of  Charles  I V. 
in  favor  of  his  son.  The  King  had  first  disgraced  Godoy ; 
but  this  was  not  enough.  The  unhappy  man  had  fallen  after 
all  into  the  hands  of  the  populace,  and  barely  escaped  with  his 
life,  on  the  arrival  of  the  Guards  ; and  the  King  and  Queen 
made  no  secret  of  their  concern  — going  to  the  prison  to  see 
him.  Ferdinand  was  the  only  one  who  could  control  the  people  ; 
and  to  him  the  royal  power  was  transferred,  on  the  19th  of 
March.  Thus  did  Ferdinand  VII.  attain  the  crown,  not  without 
suspicion  on  many  hands  of  having  been  at  the  bottom  of  the 
insurrection  which  intercepted  the  flight  of  his  father  as  King. 
In  his  Decree,  the  King  declared  his  abdication  to  be  free  and 
spontaneous ; and  he  said  so  to  the  assembled  diplomatic  body 
at  Court ; but  in  a private  letter  to  Napoleon,  two  days  after- 
wards, and  in  a Protest  drawn  up  the  same  day,  he  set  forth 
that  his  resignation  of  the  Crown  was  forced,  and  that  the  act 
must  be  considered  null.  “ I have  been  forced  to  abdicate,”  he 
wrote  to  the  Emperor,  u and  have  no  longer  any  hope  but  in  the 
aid  and  support  of  my  magnanimous  ally,  the  Emperor  Napo- 
leon.” 

Napoleon  was  not  slow  to  interfere.  The  news  of  the  in- 
surrection of  the  17th  reached  him  at  Paris  in  the  evening  of 
the  26th ; and  the  next  morning,  he  offered  the  crown  to  his 
brother  Louis.  The  next  step  was  to  get  the  whole  royal 
family  into  his  hands  ; and  Ferdinand  first,  as  the  most  diffi- 
The  Court  cu^t#  By  a series  °f  lies  aad  frauds,  infamous  al- 

enticed  to  most  beyond  example  in  history,  the  new  King  was 

Bayonne.  tempted  and  drawn  on  towards  Bayonne  — his  coun- 
sellors doubtful  and  remonstrating,  the  people  alarmed  and 
imploring,  and  at  last  proceeding  so  far  as  to  cut  the  traces  of 
the  carriage.  But  he  went,  as  under  a sort  of  fatality ; and  the 
trap  closed  upon  him  as  he  entered  Bayonne  on  the  21st  of 
April.  Murat  was,  meantime,  the  real  ruler  at  Madrid.  He 
so  contrived  as  to  obtain  possession  of  the  person  of  Go- 
doy ; and  he  sent  him,  under  guard,  to  Bayonne.  Then,  he  ob- 
tained long  conferences  with  Charles  and  the  Queen,  evidently 
wrought  upon  them  to  set  up  a claim  to  retract  the  act  of  abdica- 
tion, as  extorted  by  force,  and  persuaded  them  that  they  would 
regain  the  crown,  (already  given  away  to , Louis  Bonaparte,)  by 


Chap  II.] 


APPEAL  TO  ENGLAND. 


255 


going  to  Napoleon  to  ask  him  for  it.  So  they,  too,  set  out  for 
Bayonne,  and  arrived  on  the  30th  of  April,  four  days  after 
Godoy.  Napoleon  now  held  the  whole  party  at  his  disposal, 
and  could  proceed  to  work  out  his  objects  in  Spain  — as  he 
believed,  without  opposition. 

To  the  British  nation  and  the  world  the  great  interest  was  to 
know  what  the  mind  of  the  people  of  Spain  really  The  Spanish 
was,  all  this  time  ; what  its  quality  was  ; its  hopes  natio°- 
and  wishes  ; its  courage  and  firmness  ; its  capacity,  in  short,  for 
freedom.  This  was,  at  that  juncture,  the  greatest  question,  the 
most  important  speculation,  in  Europe.  If  the  Spaniards  could 
not  help  themselves,  they  could  not  be  aided  ; if  they  did  not 
desire  freedom,  it  could  not  be  given  them.  If  they  were  wor- 
thy to  enter  upon  a last  struggle  for  nationality,  leaders  might 
presently  appear  on  their  native  battle-ground ; if  not,  the  battle- 
ground ought  not  to  be  entered  upon.  This  was  the  question 
which  roused  and  occupied  the  mind  of  all  England  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1808. 

The  first  clear  view  we  have  of  the  Spanish  people  amidst 
these  events,  is  when  they  were  rising  up,  at  the  rumor  of  the 
royal  flight  to  Seville,  and  gathering  to  prevent  it.  “ Do  you 
think,”  they  cried,  while  mustering  before  the  palace,  “ that  we 
have  no  more  spirit  than  the  people  of  Lisbon?  ” When  Ferdi- 
nand was  hailed  as  King,  all  Madrid  burst  into  a blaze  of  illumi- 
nation, and  the  houses  and  streets  were  adorned  with  flowers  and 
green  boughs.  The  citizens  fondly  hoped  that  a new  and  a 
young  King  would  lead  them  against  the  French  ; and  recover 
their  own  country  for  their  own  occupation.  They  were  dis- 
mayed when  he  persisted  in  going  to  Bayonne ; and  they  be- 
came hopeless  of  aid  from  the  royal  family  when  it  was  made 
known  over  Europe  that  Ferdinand’s  parents  insisted  on  the  res- 
titution of  the  sovereignty,  his  mother  actually  declaring  to  him, 
(according  to  the  testimony  of  Ferdinand’s  own  adherents,)  in  the 
presence  of  her  husband  and  Napoleon,  that  his  birth  was  illegiti- 
mate — that  he  was  her  son,  but  no  son  of  the  King’s.  After 
this,  we  see  the  Spaniards  meeting  in  the  different  provinces,  to 
appoint  provincial  governments  for  the  popular  guidance  and  de- 
fence ; and  these  juntas  sending  delegates  to  England,  where  now 
lay  the  only  remaining  hope  of  betrayed  and  insulted  Spain.  The 
first  petitioners  who  came  over  were  from  so  near  the  Appeal  to 
French  strongholds,  that  their  departure  was  an  escape.  Enslaad- 
They  came  from  the  coast  of  Asturias  ; and  one  of  the  two,  an 
Asturian  Viscount,  put  off  in  an  open  boat.  Mr.  Canning  was 
eager  to  show  them  kindness ; and  the  whole  British  people 
offered  them  a hearty  welcome.  They  declared  fine  things  about 
the  spirit  and  aspirations  of  the  mountaineers  in  the  north  ; and 


256 


ENGLAND'S  REPLY  TO  SPAIN. 


[Book  II. 


it  seems  that  they  either  undertook  to  answer  for  all  Spain,  or 
that  what  they  said  of  the  north  was  extended,  by  the  imagi- 
nation and  the  hopes  of  their  hearers,  to  the  whole  of  the  nation. 
Money,  sympathy,  and  promises,1  were  given  them,  in  disregard 
of  admonitions  from  cautious  politicians  to  wait  and  see  what 
men  would  be  sent  over  as  really  national  representatives.  The 
Duke  of  Portland  was,  by  this  time,  almost  past  stirring  to  do 
or  decree  anything ; and  enthusiasm  carried  all  such  prudence 
before  it.  The  favors  lavished  on  Asturians  presently  brought 
over  Galicians  and  Biscayans,  who  were  still  only  remote  pro- 
vincials, who  could  not  be  supposed  capable  of  answering  for  the 
Spanish  people.  Some  discretion  in  the  English  was  required 
by  the  fact  that  we  were  still,  absurd  as  it  seemed,  at  war  with 
Spain  ; and  more,  in  the  opinion  of  those  who  best  knew  the 
Spaniards,  from  their  characters  and  training.  By  character 
they  were  disposed  to  be  sanguine  and  very  boastful ; and  by 
training,  they  were  prone  to  depend  on  others,  and  to  leave  off 
acting  themselves  as  soon  as  others  began  to  move  in  their 
behalf.  But  it  was  not  a moment  when  the  English  people 
could  be  cautious!  England  would  no  longer  be  without  allies  ; 
England’s  a nation  was  at  last  found  in  Europe  which  would 
repty-  spurn  the  rule  of  Napoleon,  and  such  a nation  must 
be  supported  with  the  whole  power  of  Great  Britain.  It  was 
decided  by  acclamation  — by  an  acclaim  which  put  down  the 
warning  voices  of  a few  Opposition  leaders  — that  the  experi- 
ment should  be  tried  of  a conflict  between  an  enthusiastic  people 
and  the  armies  of  France,  — this  enthusiastic  people  being  sus- 
tained by  money  and  other  supplies  from  England ; and,  as  soon 
as  her  forces  could  be  got  ready,  by  an  army.  Thus  far,  p]ng- 
land  had  really  not  fought  at  all  on  land,  since  the  renewal  of 
the  war.  Her  enemies  had  jeered,  and  her  allies  had  corii- 
plained.  because  her  soldiers  were  to  be  found  only  on  the  sea, 
and  lining  her  own  shores.  Now,  they  were  to  meet  the  French 
on  the  soil  of  Spain  and  Portugal,  and  Napoleon  was  in  fact  to 
cope  with  a new  power.  The  large  majority,  in  and  out  of  the 
government,  were  too  confident  of  the  success  of  our  arms ; and 
a small  number  u despaired  from  the  beginning,” 2 as  we  find 
Francis  Jeffrey  declaring  that  he  did.  He  and  other  opposition 
men  believed  that  in  a short  time  not  a British  soldier  would 
remain  in  the  Peninsula,  but  as  a prisoner.  But  they  were  re- 
garded, naturally  enough,  as  wanting  in  patriotic  feeling  and 
political  faith  ; and  aspiration  seemed,  for  once,  to  have  passed 
over  from  the  liberal  side  to  the  conservative.  Wilberf'orce  and 
his  friends  were  happy,  anticipating  the  downfall  of  popery  in 
Spain.  Royalty  and  aristocracy  were  happy  in  the  hope  that 
1 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  415.  2 Memoirs  of  Horner,  i.  p.  439. 


Chap.  II.] 


UPRISING  OP  THE  PEOPLE. 


257 


the  ruin  of  the  upstart  oppressor  of  kings  was  near ; and  Can- 
ning and  the  people  (for  Canning  was  then  virtually  on  the  pop- 
ular side)  were  happy  in  having  found  a whole  nation  of  breth- 
ren rising  up  to  offer  an  exchange  of  sympathies  on  the  question 
which  absorbed  the  world.  Amidst  the  joy  and  the  hurry,  the 
few  who  were  mournful  and  quiet  had  other  reason  for  their 
despair  than  dread  of  Napoleon.  There  was  the  weakness  of 
the  government  at  home. ; and  this  was  indeed  a fatal  mischief. 

Mr.  Canning  had  the  misfortune  to  be  brought  into  close  and 
constant  relations  with  Lord  Castlereagh,  who  touched  nothing 
that  he  did  not  spoil.  Lord  Castlereagh  was  Secretary  at  War  ; 
and  his  incessant  blunders  and  constitutional  incapacity  tram- 
melled the  Foreign  Secretary,  and  through  him  the  whole  Cabi- 
net, as  far  as  our  relations  with  the  Peninsula  were  concerned. 
The  Greys  and  Jeffreys,  being  aware  of  this  state  of  things,  were 
largely  justified  in  their  apprehensions.  Week  by  week,  month 
after  month,  during  the  rest  of  the  year  1808,  their  justification 
seemed  to  be  growing  complete. 

It  was  about  the  1st  of  May  that  the  citizens  of  Madrid  rose 
in  insurrection  on  hearing  that  Ferdinand  was  in  Na-  Renuncia- 
poleon’s  power;  and  that  Ferdinand  had  made  a con-  ^ £f etl£’ 
ditional  renunciation  of  the  crown.  In  a few  days,  Bourbons6 
“order  reigned”  at  Madrid;  and  the  Spanish  princes  ofSpain- 
had  renounced  their  whole  empire,  delivering  their  territories  in 
Europe  and  elsewhere  to  Napoleon,  and  Ferdinand  even  writing 
to  his  successor  under  the  title  of  “ his  most  Catholic  Majesty,” 
to  congratulate  him  on  his  accession  to  the  Spanish  throne. 
From  that  time,  the  family  were  prisoners  in  France  ; and  from 
that  time,  as  has  since  been  observed,  Napoleon  began  to  ex- 
perience his  retribution.  Within  a month,  all  Spain  was  rising; 
and  during  the  weeks  of  June,  when  the  new  constitution  was  in 
course  of  construction  at  Bayonne,  under  the  direction  of  Napo- 
leon, the  inhabitants  of  Spain  were  everywhere  cutting  up  the 
roads,  refusing  supplies  to  the  French,  and  killing,  in  a spirit  of 
desperate  hatred,  every  Frenchman  they  could  lay  hands  on. 
It  was  at  this  time  that  the  enthusiasm  in  England  was  at  its 
height.  In  July  came  a check.  On  the  14th,  a regular 
Spanish  army,  which  was  sent  to  intercept  the  new  King’s 
journey  from  Bayonne  to  Madrid,  was  totally  routed ; and  then 
again,  in  a few  days  more,  fortune  declared  for  the  other  side. 
The  French  General  in  Andalusia,  Dupont,  had  conducted  war- 
fare so  infamously,  that  the  spirit  of  the  people  was  roused  to 
the  utmost,  and  they  would  now,  if  ever,  show  what  they  could 
do.  The  eyes  of  all  England  were  fixed  on  the  points  of  the 
Sierra  Morena,  while  the  forces  sent  after  Dupont  by  the  Junta 
of  Seville  were  marching  thither.  Dupont  capitulated  at  Baylen  ; 

VOL.  i.  17 


258 


BRITISH  TROOPS  IN  SPAIN. 


[Book  II 


and  when  the  news  reached  Madrid,  King  Joseph,  thougli  only 
just  taking  breath  after  his  intrusive  journey,  broke  up  his  Court 
and  left  the  capital  — unable  to  bear  the  acclamations  with  which 
the  tidings  were  received.  The  Spaniards  were  so  elated  with 
this  first  victory  that  they  began  to  talk  of  not  wanting  the 
British.  They  were  gratified  by  English  sympathy,  they  said  ; 1 
but  they  had  now  no  doubt  that  they  could  humble  Napoleon, 
without  assistance ; and  when  they  had  freed  their  own  country, 
they  would  conquer  France. 

Negotiations,  perplexed,  and  full  of  distrust,  were  going  on 
meanwhile  between  the  British  at  Gibraltar  and  some  leaders 
of  the  Spanish  cause.  They  were  perplexed,  because  there  was 
some  underhand  dealing  in  the  English  Cabinet  — some  mutual 
counteraction  between  Lord  Castle  reagh  and  one  or  more  of  his 
colleagues  : and  the  negotiations  were  full  of  distrust,  because 
England  and  Spain  were  still  nominally  at  war ; and  overtures 
from  Gibraltar  must  necessarily  appear  suspicious  to  the  aurhori- 
ties  of  the  southern  provinces  of  Spain.  On  the  20th  of  July, 
Landing  of  Sir  Arthur  Wellesley  landed  at  Corunna,  and  a fleet 
troop s^n  was  following  him,  with  troops  which  were  to  begin 

Spain.  the  seven  years’  war  in  the  Peninsula.  The  command- 
ers of  these  forces,  and  of  the  British  ships  which  were  riding 
round  the  coasts  of  Spain,  were  placed  in  a state  of  desperate 
perplexity  by  the  orders  of  Lord  Ca-tlereagh  : orders  which  it 
was  out  of  all  human  power  to  reconcile,  or,  in  any  point,  to  ex- 
ecute. But  the  landing  of  Sir  Arthur  Wollesley  on  the  coasts  of 
the  Peninsula  was  an  event  whose  significance  no  mismanage- 
ment  could  impair.  The  British  general  promptly  decided  (be- 
ing compelled  to  follow  his  own  judgment)  to  make  Portugal  his 
first  scene  of  action  ; and  he  went  to  meet  the  fleet  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Mondego.  There  he  learned  that  he  was  superseded  in 
the  chief  command,  and  actually  reduced  to  the  fourth  rank  in 
the  army  which  had  just  been  put  into  his  hands.  Sir  Hugh 
Dairy mple  and  Sir  Harry  Burrard,  men  quite  unused  to  the 
command  of  armies,  were  suddenly,  and  without  reason  assigned, 
appointed  to  the  highest  commands  ; and  Sir  John  Moore,  on  his 
return  from  his  interview  with  the  mad  King  of  Sweden,  was  put 
under  Burrard’s  orders  ; thus  the  conqueror  of  the  Mahrattas 
was  to  find  his  place  under  all  these  three.  Sir  A.  Wellesley 
was  not  a man  to  throw  up  the  service  of  his  country  in  disgust, 
became  he  was  personally  ill-used,  and  because  the  War-Office 
was  badly  managed.  He  knew  that  10,000  British  soldiers  were 
in  the  Baltic,2  with  nothing  to  do  ; and  10,000  more,  equally  idle, 
in  Sicily;  and  large  numbers  crowding  Gibraltar;  and  5000 
more  wandering  without  purpose  or  duty  between  Ceuta  and 
1 Napier’s  Peninsular  War,  i.  p.  135.  2 Ibid.  p.  179. 


Chap.  II.] 


BATTLE  OF  VIMIEIRO. 


259 


Lisbon,  while  he  had  only  9000  with  which  to  encounter  the 
French  in  the  Peninsula,  and  begin  war  upon  Junot.  His  pro- 
fessional sense  was  harassed  by  the  extreme  folly  of  the  orders 
from  home ; and  his  personal  feelings  were  outraged  by  slights 
almost  too  hard  for  human  patience  ; but  he  did  the  best  he 
could.  He  landed  his  troops  (awaiting  the  arrival  of  those  who 
were  now  his  superior  officers)  between  the  1st  and  the  4th  of 
August ; and,  being  joined  by  General  Spencer  from  the  south, 
found  his  little  army  amount  to  12,300  men.  On  the  morning 
of  the  8th  of  August,  the  British  troops  began  to  move  — took 
the  first  step  of  a seven  years’  march  to  Waterloo.  66  It  was  the 
unhappy  war  in  the  Peninsula  that  ruined  me,” 1 Napoleon  said, 
years  afterwards,  to  Las  Cases.  “ The  unfortunate  war  in  Spain 
proved  a real  wound ; the  first  cause  of  the  misfortunes  of 
France.”  2 

The  first  British  blood  shed  in  the  Peninsular  war  was  on  the 
15th  of  August,  in  a skirmish,  in  which  the  ardor  of  Successesof 
our  soldiers  made  them  rash.  On  the  17th,  the  Brit-  SirA.  Wei- 
ish  won  the  battle  of  Roriya,  which  was  valorously  lesley* 
contested  by  the  French  under  Laborde.  On  the  21st,  Junot 
himself  was  beaten  out  of  the  field  at  the  battle  of  Vimieiro ; and 
the  destiny  of  the  French  in  Portugal  might  have  been  settled 
at  once  if  the  victor  had  been  allowed  to  manage  the  results  of 
the  victory  he  had  gained.  But  Sir  H.  Burrard,2  who  had  very 
properly  abstained  from  interfering  with  Wellesley’s  fame  in  the 
conduct  of  the  battle,  prohibited  any  vigorous  movement  after  it ; 
and  the  troops  were  not  allowed  to  place  themselves  between  the 
French  and  Lisbon.  On  the  23d,  however,  Sir  Hugh  Dalrym- 
ple  arrived,  and  in  his  turn  took  the  chief  command,  ordering,  in 
the  first  place,  the  desired  advance.  Before  it  could  be  entered 
upon,  Junot  sent  an  eminent  general  to  propose  an  agreement 
under  which  Portugal  might  be  evacuated  by  the  French.  It 
was  not  on  account  alone  of  the  loss  of  the  battle  of  Vimieiro  ; 
for  his  troops  had  rallied  with  spirit,  and  with  less  damage  than 
had  been  supposed ; but  Lisbon  was  about  to  rise  in  revolt ; and 
the  country  wras  too  much  exhausted  to  permit  the  French  to 
live  upon  its  resources,  if  once  they  should  lose  the  capital. 
Out  of*  this  arrival  of  General  Kellerman  at  the  outposts  of  the 
little  British  army  grew  the  Convention  of  Cintra,  and  much  jus- 
tification to  the  few  at  home  who  were  in  dejection  about  the 
Peninsular  War. 

After  the  news  of  the  battle  of  Vimieiro,  all  England  was  on 
the  w^atch  for  the  next  despatches  which  would  tell,  no  convention 
doubt,  of  the  total  extinction  of  Napoleon’s  power  in  of  Cintra. 

1 Las  Cases,  iv.  pp.  204,  205.  2 O’Meara,  ii.  p.  167. 

8 Napier,  i.  p.  217. 


CONVENTION  OE  CINTRA. 


[Book  II. 


2fi0 

that  direction.  In  the  middle  of  a September  night,  the  firing 
of  the  Park  and  Tower  guns  roused  thousands  of  citizens  from 
their  beds.  In  the  morning  the  streets  were  full ; but,  as  the 
true  character  of  the  news  became  understood,  the  general  wrath 
and  disgust  were  expressed  in  a manner  positively  alarming  to 
the  government.  A convention  had  been  arranged  at  Cintra,1 
by  the  terms  of  which  the  French  troops  were  indeed  to  evac- 
uate Portugal,  but  at  the  expense  of  the  British,  and  in  their 
ships.  They  were  to  be  landed,  with  all  their  property,  between 
Rochefort  and  LfOrient ; and  no  stipulation  was  made  that  they 
should  not  serve  again  immediately.  The  enemy  were  actually 
to  be  conveyed,  at  our  expense,  to  a place  whence  they  could,  the 
next  hour,  proceed  to  attack  Spain  more  conveniently  than  from 
their  present  position.  The  Portuguese  and  Spaniards  were 
already  remonstrating  with  the  British  generals  ; and  now,  the 
government  at  home  was  besieged  with  petitions  and  remon- 
strances. A Court  of  Inquiry  was  instituted,  in  which  the 
members  tried  to  evade  a decision  on  the  terms  of  the  treaty  : 
but  the  Duke  of  York  brought  them  to  the  point ; and  some 
approved,  and  some  disapproved  the  terms.  The  King  sent  to 
Sir  Hugh  Dalrymple  2 a formal  declaration  of  his  disapprobation 
of  the  whole  proceeding.  Lord  Collingwood,  before  hearing  of 
the  Cintra  Convention,  disapproved  so  strongly  of  similar  terms 
concluded  on  between  the  Andalusian  army  and  the  vanquished 
Dupont,  who,  with  his  troops,  was  to  be  conveyed  to  Rochefort 
at  the  expense  of  the  conquerors,8  that  he  refused  to  allow  so 
large  a body  of  armed  men  to  pass  the  sea  till  he  was  authorized 
to  do  so  by  instructions  from  home.  The  plea  of  the  generals, 
in  defence  of  the  terms  they  had  made  in  the  Cintra  Convention, 
was  that  it  appeared  to  them  of  supreme  importance  to  be  set  at 
liberty  to  proceed  to  Spain.  All  the  great  fortresses  in  Portu- 
gal were  in  French  hands  ; and  the  defeated  army  had  much  life 
and  spirit  in  it  yet.  By  ridding  Portugal  altogether  of  the 
French,  the  field  would  be  cleared  for  the  great  Spanish  warfare ; 
and  they  thought  this  the  greatest  advantage  they  could  obtain. 
When  parliament  met,  the  Opposition  moved  a vote  of  censure 
on  ministers  for  sanctioning  the  Convention,  and  were  beaten  by 
a majority  of  50  ; a majority  which  was  considered,  under  the 
circumstances,  small.  A political  consequence  arose  out  of  this 
business,  which  largely  affected  the  interests  of  the  country  at  a 
subsequent  time.  The  Cabinet  decided  on  sanctioning  the  Con- 
vention 4 at  a meeting  held  during  an  unavoidable  absence  of  Mr. 
Canning  ; and  they  did  it  without  consulting  him,  notwithstand- 
ing the  office  he  held.  This  was  the  beginning  of  the  hostility 

1 Annual  Register,  1808.  Chron.  26T.  2 Ibid.  Chron.  281. 

8 Ward’s  Memoirs,  i.  p.  189.  4 Malmesbury  Diaries,  iv.  p.  419. 


MEETING  AT  ERFURTH. 


Chap.  II  ] 


261 


between  him  and  Lord  Castlereagh,  which  exploded  at  a disas- 
trous crisis,  a year  afterwards. 

The  Russian  ships  in  the  Tagus,  nine  sail  of  the  line  and 
one  frigate,  were  delivered  up  to  the  British,  in  deposit  till  six 
months  after  the  close  of  the  war,  according  to  one  of  the  articles 
of  the  treaty  ; the  officers  and  crews  being  sent  home  at  the  ex- 
pense of  Great  Britain.  During  the  first  week  in  September, 
the  British  took  possession  of  Lisbon,  and  were  supposed  ready 
to  march  on  into  Spain.  But  it  was  not  till  the  27th  of  October, 
nearly  two  months  after  the  Convention  of  Cintra,  that  they  were 
on  their  way  to  the  more  important  field  of  action. 

By  that  time,  we  find  the  most  sanguine  of  the  friends  of 
Spain  speaking  in  the  same  tone  with  the  dejected  and  despairing 
whom  they  had  so  lately  been  rebuking.  “ Everything,  it  is 
now  manifest,”  wrote  Francis  Horner  in  that  month,1  “ depends 
upon  the  great  operation  on  the  Danube.”  By  that  Aspcctof 
time,  Napoleon  had  planted  his  military  posts,  and  European 
taken  possession  of  whatever  suited  him,  from  Flush-  affairs* 
ing  to  Dalmatia.  Hamburg  groaned  under  his  oppression.  Aus- 
tria could  endure  no  more,  and  was  planning  to  rise.  The  Pope, 
who  had  crowned  him,  had  excommunicated  him,  and  was  im- 
prisoned. Murat,  his  brother-in-law,  was  on  the  throne  of 
Naples.  Austria  had  busily  repaired  her  finances,  and  recruited 
her  forces,  so  as  to  compel  both  Napoleon  and  England  to  suspect 
that  she  meant  to  rise,  though  she  was  nominally  the  ally  of 
France,  and  at  war  with  England.  Napoleon  accordingly  armed 
and  strengthened  the  Confederates  of  the  Rhine,  and  arranged 
an  interview  with  Alexander,  in  order  to  keep  him  steady  to  his 
F rench  alliance.  Some  advisers  of  government  at  home  believed 
that  much  good  might  now  have  been  done  by  cordial  assistance 
being  proffered  to  Austria  by  England  ; but  the  Duke  of  Port- 
land wras  ill  and  apathetic,  and  Mr.  Perceval  was  (what  they 
called)  parsimonious  ; and  the  autumn  slipped  away  without  any- 
thing being  done. 

The  French  and  Russian  Emperors  met  at  Erfurth,  the  Em- 
peror of  Austria  sending  an  excuse  for  his  absence.  Meeting  at 
The  pomp  was  great,  Napoleon  being  attended  by  a Erfurfch- 
suite  consisting  of  the  Princes  of  Germany.  One  of  the  amuse- 
ments of  the  Potentates  was  riding  over  the  field  of  Jena,  and 
pointing  out  to  each  other  the  most  remarkable  scenes  of  the 
conflict.  There  was  a magnificent  breakfast  in  a tent ; and 
afterwards  the  chase,  and  in  the  evening  a banquet.  Prussia 
was  too  much  humbled  to  stir  ; but  Austria  went  on  with  her 
preparations.  Her  declaration  of  war  against  France  bears  date 
the  6th  of  April,  1809.  On  the  21st  of  May  Napoleon  met  with  a 
1 Memoirs,  i.  p.  433. 


262 


FALSE  HOPES  OF  SPAIN. 


[Book  II. 


decided  check  at  the  hard-fought  battle  of  Aspern.  But  in  July, 
Battle  of  he  crushed  the  Austrian  armies  at  the  battle  of  Wa- 
Wagram.  gram  ; and  once  more  dictated  terms  of  peace.  And 
this  issue  of  “ the  great  operation  on  the  Danube  ” once  more  made 
Spain  the  only  battle-field  in  Europe.  Napoleon  had  indeed  one 
adversary  on  the  German  side  who  was  unsubdued,  and  who 
gave  him  much  trouble*:  an  humble  innkeeper  in  the  Tyrol,  a 
peasant  in  appearance  and  manners,  but  a greater  hero  than  any 
Andrew  prince  of  them  all  — Andrew  Hofer  by  name.  This 

Hofer.  man  made  heroes  of  all  his  countrymen  who  came 

within  the  glance  of  his  eye,  or  the  sound  of  his  calm  and 
manly  voice  ; and  they  took  this  opportunity  of  struggling  for 
the  independence  of  the  Tyrol,  by  closing  its  mountain  passes  at 
once  against  the  Bavarians  and  the  French.  For  months  after 
the  battle  of  Wagram,  they  were  still  unsubdued  ; and  they  oc- 
cupied a large  French  force  very  inconveniently.  But  Hofer 
was  to  follow  the  common  lot.  When  all  Europe  went  down 
before  the  conqueror,  like  a forest  before  the  hurricane,  it  was 
impossible  that  a single  tree  should  stand,  however  green  and 
strong.  In  January,  he  was  with  his  family,  in  a little  cottage 
up  the  icy  steeps.  At  four  in  the  morning  of  the  27th,  the 
place  was  surrounded,  and  he  was  carried  down  a prisoner.  All 
the  way  to  the  frontier,  the  road  was  lined  with  a weeping  and 
praying  multitude.  He  alone  could  smile.  After  some  mockery 
of  a military  trial  at  Mantua,  he  was  shot,  on  the  20th  of  Feb- 
ruary, while  his  wife  was  taking  care  of  their  infants  at  home, 
and  looking  out,  hoping  against  hope,  for  his  return  over  the 
sheeted  snow.  If  Napoleon  did  not  care  for  the  excommunica- 
tion of  the  Pope,  neither  was  he  troubled  by  such  groans  and 
curses  of  multitudes  of  the  humble  and  virtuous  as  would  have 
broken  the  heart  and  turned  the  brain  of  any  other  man. 

While  men  were  looking  to  Spain  because  there  was  no  hope 
elsewhere,  there  was  little  comfort  there.  Napoleon  had  with- 
drawn the  bulk  of  his  army,  when  he  wanted  its  services  on  the 
Danube  ; but  the  Spaniards  made  no  use  of  the  opportunity. 
False  hopes  They  were  disunited ; feeble  and  inexperienced  ; and 
of  Spain.  after  the  battle  of  Wagram,  new  French  armies  poured 
over  the  Pyrenees  to  flood  the  Peninsula.  The  British  Ministry 
and  the  majority  of  the  nation  could  not,  or  would  not,  under- 
stand the  weakness,  moral  and  military,  of  the  Spaniards.  They 
were  so  persuaded  of  the  universal  enthusiasm  of  Spain  that 
they  assured  Sir  John  Moore,  on  his  leaving  Lisbon  in  October 
1808,  that  the  inhabitants  would  dispose  of  the  French  on  either 
hand  of  his  march,  and  they  would  assist  him  in  preparing  for 
the  invasion  of  France  from  the  south,  as  soon  as  the  French 
should  have  been  driven  out  of  Spain.  He  soon  discovered  that 


BATTLE  OF  TUDELA. 


Ckap.  II.] 


263 


nil  parties  were  proceeding  to  plan,  order,  and  execute,  in  total 
ignorance  of  facts.  He  could  not  learn  anything  SirJohn 
about  the  roads ; and  the  forces  were  broken  up  into  Moore’s 
small  divisions  through  a mistake  on  this  point.  He  camPaisn- 
found  little  or  no  enthusiasm,  and  little  enough  of  civility,  on  his 
route.  The  Spanish  forces,  so  mighty  on  paper,  were  always 
heard  of,  but  never  to  be  seen.  He  entered  Salamanca  on  the 
13th  of  November,  and  thence  wrote  one  of  those  letters,  whose 
pathos  was  to  deepen  till  the  close.  “ Things  are  not,”  he  re- 
ported, “ in  that  flourishing  state  they  are  supposed  to  be  in 
England.”  Sir  David  Baird  had  landed  at  Corunna,  with  a de- 
tachment with  which  he  was  to  join  Sir  J.  Moore  at  Salamanca. 
He  wrote  indignantly  of  the  conduct  of  the  Junta  at  Corunna, 
which  gave  him  no  aid,  and  caused  him  much  embarrassment. 
Full  ten  days  before  it  was  possible  that  the  junction  could  be 
effected  at  Salamanca,  the  news  reached  Sir  J.  Moore  that  the 
French  were  within  twenty  leagues  of  him  — at  Valladolid.  If 
there  were  any  Spanish  armies,  they  had  gone  out  of  sight,  into 
far  corners.  He  had  not  a single  gun,  as  the  artillery  had  made 
a needless  circuit,  through  false  accounts  of  the  state  of  the  roads. 
His  whole  present  force  consisted  of  three  brigades  of  infantry. 
The  Spaniards  did  not  tell  him,  and  he  discovered  only  by  acci- 
dent, that  the  numbers  of  the  French  were  much  exaggerated. 
As  he  expected  reinforcements  from  the  south,  as  well  as  from 
Corunna,  he  must  not  stir  without  urgent  necessity  ; and  while 
he  was  waiting  at  Salamanca,  the  Spanish  cause  was  lost  in 
Asturias,  and  General  Baird  was  placed  in  danger  by  the  French 
overrunning  the  northern  provinces. 

Then  came  the  news  of  the  total  defeat  of  the  Spaniards 
under  Castanos  at  Tudela  on  the  2 2d  of  November.  While  the 
Spanish  generals  were  disputing  about  what  their  first  object 
should  be  — whether  to  defend  Aragon,  or  attack  the  F reneh  in 
rear,  or  join  the  British,  the  enemy  came  up  against  them  on  the 
Ebro,  and  at  Tudela  routed  them  utterly,  stripping  them  of  their 
artillery,  ammunition,  and  baggage.  This  event  left  the  British 
commanders  no  choice  as  to  what  they  should  do.  All  the  Brit- 
ish force  in  Spain  was  little  above  25, 000, 1 while  the  French 
were  400,000,  and  the  Spaniards,  it  was  clear,  could  not  be  de- 
pended on  to  do  anything  for  themselves.  The  British  must 
provide  for  their  own  safety.  How  to  do  this  was  one  of  the 
hardest  questions  ever  left  to  be  decided  by  a military  com- 
mander. Sir  John  Moore  was  furnished  with  false  information 
by  the  Junta  at  Madrid  ; and  the  Junta  had  succeeded  in  deceiv- 
ing the  British  plenipotentiary,  Mr.  Frere,  who  insisted,  even 
with  threats,  that  the  British  generals  should  march  to  Madrid, 
1 Napier,  i.  p.  422. 


264 


RETREAT  OF  THE  BRITISH. 


[Book  II. 


and  support  what  he  declared  to  be  the  noble  spirit  of  the 
Spaniards.  Sir  John  Moore’s  judgments  were  necessarily 
fluctuating,  because  every  day  brought  information,  true  or  false, 
which  had  an  important  bearing  on  his  plans.  In  the  middle  of 
December,  however,  he  came  to  a clear  decision.  He  and  the 
Spanish  general,  Romana,  were  to  form  a junction  on  the  further 
bank  of  the  Carrion,  in  the  east  of  Leon,  to  attack  the  French, 
who  were  advancing  from  Valencia.  A large  French  force 
under  Napoleon  himself  was  at  Madrid  — actually  occupying 
a part  of  it,  while  the  Junta  tried  to  keep  the  fact  a secret. 
The  moment  seemed  favorable  for  striking  a blow  at  the  French 
under  Soult,  before  retreating  ; and  the  retreat  might  thereby  be 
rendered  unnecessary.  It  was  possible  that  a victory  might 
draw  Napoleon  from  Madrid.  By  the  junction  of  the  British 
commanders,  the  force  under  Sir  John  Moore  amounted  to 
23,583  men  ; 1 with  60  pieces  of  artillery.  Romana  would  bring 
a few ; but  the  English  had  now  learned  not  to  rely  on  Spanish 
armies. 

The  battle  for  which  the  British  soldiers  were  longing  never 
took  place.  The  moment  Napoleon  heard  of  Sir  John  Moore’s  ad- 
vance towards  Soult,  he  left  Madrid  with  50,000  men,  forced  them 
fiercely  over  the  mountains,  in  defiance  of  drifted  snow  and  driving 
sleet,  and  hurried  on  to  annihilate  the  English.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  moment  Sir  John  Moore  heard  of  Napoleon’s  march 
from  Madrid,  he  knew  that  he  must  retreat  upon  Co- 
is  ie  rea  . runna?  or  answerable  for  the  destruction  of  his  whole 
force  ; and  he  had  passed  the  Esla  twelve  hours  before  Napoleon 
came  up,  though  the  Emperor  travelled  almost  without  a pause. 

The  retreat  to  Corunna  is  one  of  the  most  mournful  passages 
of  the  war.  The  British  had,  as  yet,  done  nothing  in  Spain, 
any  more  than  they  had  previously  done  anywhere  else  on  land. 
Their  military  reputation  had  still  to  be  made  ; and  the  tens  of 
thousands  of  gallant  soldiers  who  were  eager  to  begin  to  make 
it  seemed  to  be  incessantly  balked  of  the  opportunity.  At 
this  time,  the  eyes  of  all  the  world  were  upon  them  ; and  at 
home  the  ears  of  the  government  and  people  were  filled  with 
the  boasts  of  the  Spaniards,  and  of  British  diplomatists  in 
Spain  on  their  behalf.  A battle  was  at  last  to  be  fought.  The 
very  day  was  fixed ; the  very  river  was  reached ; and  at  that 
moment  a retreat  was  ordered  ; a retreat  in  the  depth  of  winter, 
with  an  insulting  enemy  pressing  close  upon  them  at  every  point. 
Sir  John  Moore  himself  had  preserved  a dignity  of  self-discipline 
amidst  anxieties  and  provocations  which  was  insufficiently  ap- 
preciated at  the  time,  hut  which  now  melts  every  heart  which 
is  reached  by  the  tale.  He  held  his  own  temper,  language,  and 
1 Napier,  i.  p.  456. 


Chap.  II.] 


THEIR  DEMORALIZATION. 


265 


nerves,  under  stern  and  sweet  control ; but  it  wras  now  more 
than  he  or  any  one  could  do  to  preserve  a similar  discipline  in 
his  force.  The  British  were  as  yet  the  most  inexperienced 
soldiery  in  Europe ; and  the  “ instinct  of  discipline  ” was  not 
yet  formed  in  them.  The  cold  was  severe  ; the  comforts  of  the 
towns  were  tempting ; in  regard  to  military  glory,  all  hope 
seemed  to  be  over  ; at  least,  the  men  heard  their  officers  say  so  ; 
the  officers  became  lax  in  regimental  duty,  and  unrestrained  in 
their  murmurs.  The  British  general  had  to  bear  the  anguish  of 
seeing  his  army  not  only  miss  glory,  but  incur  disgrace.  He 
had  to  rebuke  them  sternly  for  gross  excesses.1 

Napoleon  conducted  the  pursuit  himself  as  far  as  Astorga, 
where  80,000  of  his  soldiers,  with  200  pieces  of  artillery,  were 
collected  on  New  Year’s  day.  If  Sir  J.  Moore’s  soldiers  could 
but  have  seen  it,  it  was  no  small  feat  to  have  drawn  the  con- 
queror with  the  flower  of  his  army  away  from  the  capital,  and 
from  threatening  Portugal,  into  the  obscure  northwestern  prov- 
inces. The  British  could  not  fight,  under  the  circumstances, 
and  they  might  be  driven  into  the  sea ; but  at  least  they  were 
occasioning  a respite  to  the  rest  of  the  Peninsula. 

At  Astorga,  Napoleon  gave  up  the  command  to  Soult.  He 
was  wanted  at  Paris,  for  Austria  was  preparing  to  offer  war. 
He  travelled  almost  alone  to  the  frontier ; but  the  Spaniards 
did  not  succeed  in  cutting  him  off  by  the  way.  He  travelled 
too  fast  for  them. 

The  British  could  obtain  few  animals  of  draught ; and  they 
were  therefore  compelled  to  abandon  their  magazines  in  the  towns. 
They  enjoyed  the  supplies  in  passing,  and  then  destroyed  what 
they  could  ; but  they  were  obliged  to  leave  much  wealth  to  the 
enemy.  From  the  time  they  entered  Galicia,  all  possibility  of 
a battle  seemed  over ; and  the  country  would  not  even  sustain 
them  in  winter  quarters.  The  General  determined  from  that  day 
to  embark  his  troops  at  some  one  of  the  Galician  ports,  and 
land  them  in  the  south  of  Spain,  where  their  presence  might  be 
of  more  avail  than  in  this  ruined  northwest  corner  of  the  king- 
dom. He  pushed  on ; but  on  every  hand  his  men  and  the 
camp-followers  broke  open  the  wine  vaults  and  provision  stores, 
and  came  out  drunk  and  wild,  so  as  to  fall  an  easy  prey  to  the 
frightful  weather  and  the  vigilant  enemy.  Sir  J.  Moore  re- 
mained incessantly  at  the  most  important  and  dangerous  post,  in 
the  rear.  Here  he  received  information  about  the  ports,  and 
decided  to  embark  from  Corunna,  after  halting  at  Lugo  to 
restore  the  discipline  of  his  army,  and  see  whether  there  was 
yet  a enhance  of  engaging  the  enemy  with  advantage.  He  sent 
orders  to  the  leading  division  to  wait  at  Lugo  but  General 

o o 

1 Napier,  i.  p.  465. 


266 


ARRIVAL  AT  CORUNNA. 


[Book  II, 


Baird  intrusted  the  despatch  to  a dragoon,  who  got  drunk  and 
lost  it.  The  consequence  was  that  the  van  went  struggling  on 
when  it  should  have  been  resting,  and  had  to  return  to  Lugo 
weary,  and  with  a loss  of  400  men  by  the  way.  The  country 
people  gave  no  help  or  comfort.  There  was  much  talk  of  an 
armed  peasantry  burning  with  patriotism ; but  the  armed 
peasants  of  Galicia  showed  no  other  eagerness  than  to  put 
themselves  and  their  property  beyond  the  reach  of  any  soldieiy. 
They  drove  their  cattle  up  into  the  mountains,  and  hid  them- 
selves in  the  passes.  The  road  was  now  seen  to  be  strewn 
with  dead  bullocks  and  mules,  and,  too  often,  dead  men  ; and 
barefooted  men,  and  women  with  infants,  struggled  and  tottered 
along  in  the  snow.  The  money,  hitherto  kept  at  hand,  must  now 
be  sacrificed,  or  a battle  fought  to  defend  it.  It  was  thrown  away 
— the  amount  being  25,000/.  The  bullocks  could  draw  the  load 
of  dollars  no  further ; and  the  money  was  rolled  down  the 
mountain-side.  An  officer  had  pointed  out  in  good  time  where 
fresh  and  strong  bullocks  might  be  had  ; but  the  officer  in  charge 
of  the  treasure  neglected  the  information  ; and  the  dollars  were 
left  to  be  scrambled  for  by  Galician  peasants  and  their  enemy. 

At  Lugo,  the  forces  recovered  much  of  their  tone ; and  their 
General  offered  battle  to  the  French,  hoping  it  would  be  imme- 
diately accepted,  as  the  stores  at  Lugo  were  too  scanty  to  admit 
of  his  remaining  more  than  two  days.  But  the  French  were 
quiescent,  and  the  British  were  obliged  to  proceed.  Great  care 
was  necessary  ; as  there  was  a road  by  which  their  flank  might 
be  turned ; and  the  country  behind  them  was  made  intricate  and 
perplexing  by  the  multiplicity  of  stone  walls  which  cut  it  up  into 
patches,  and  split  it  into  numberless  lanes.  The  proper  road  had 
been  marked  by  bundles  of  straw.  On  the  night  of  the  8th  of 
January,  the  camp-fires  were  heaped  up  so  as  to  burn  brightly  for 
a long  while,  and  the  English  withdrew  in  silence,  each  column 
under  the  guidance  of  a qualified  officer.  But  before  they  were 
all  off  the  ground,  a storm  came  on  which  destroyed  the  land- 
marks, and  only  one  division  out  of  three  found  their  road. 
Again,  discipline  gave  way,  and  the  loss  of  men  before  the  next 
halt  was  greater  than  in  the  whole  preceding  part  of  the  retreat. 
14,000  infantry  only  marched  on  to  Corunna,  under  the  command 
of  Sir  J.  Moore  himself.  He  now  put  himself  in  front,  because 
the  embarkation  was  to  be  the  next  great  act  he  was  to  super- 
intend. As  he  reached  the  heights  from  which  the  sea  was 
visible,  he  looked  with  eager  eyes  to  the  harbor  of  Corunna. 
It  was  empty  of  ships.  The  British  vessels  had  been  detained 
at  Vigo  by  contrary  winds.  A battle  might  be  necessary,  after 
all ; and  at  the  very  point  where  rest  and  safety  had  been 
promised  to  the  harassed  and  relaxed  soldiery.  The  people  of 


Chap.  II.]  DEATH  OF  SIR  JOHN  MOORE. 


2(57 


Corunna  behaved  well,  and  gave  what  help  they  could.  The 
city  was  strengthened  on  the  land  side,  and  laid  open  on  the  sea 
front.  'The  horses,  now  worthless,  were  killed  ; a large  quan- 
tity of  ammunition,  too  far  beyond  the  town  walls  for  use,  was 
blown  up ; and  a position  was  chosen  for  awaiting  battle,  if  the 
ships  should  not  arrive  in  time  to  prevent  it. 

They  did  not  arrive  till  the  14th.  During  the  next  night, 
the  sick  and  the  dismounted  cavalry  were  quietly  embarked, 
with  some  good  horses  and  fifty-two  pieces  of  artillery.  Several 
general  officers  now  advised  their  commander 1 to  negotiate  for 
terms  which  should  secure  the  safe  embarkation  of  his  troops. 
It  must  have  been  a sore  necessity  which  could  have  bowed  his 
spirit  to  this.  lie  might  have  asked  leave  to  embark  his  force 
if  the  enemy  had  won,  by  victory,  the  right  to  control  his  move- 
ments ; but  his  army,  though  in  bad  plight,  was  not  defeated. 
He  would  ask  no  favors.  By  daylight  on  the  16th,  everything 
was  on  board  but  the  soldiers  and  their  equipments.  They 
were  to  be  shipped,  as  soon  as  it  grew  dark  ; but  about  two  in 
the  afternoon  it  became  clear  that  the  enemy  meant  to  fight. 
There  was  to  be  a battle  at  last. 

The  British  were  under  severe  disadvantages  from  the  nature 
of  the  ground,  and  their  inferiority  of  numbers.2  They  Battle  of 
were  about  14,500  strong;  and  the  French  about  Corunna. 
20,000.  The  British  had  new  arms  and  good  powTder,  served 
out  from  the  stores  at  Corunna  ; and  this  was  their  only  point  of 
superiority  to  the  enemy.  Yet  they  beat  the  French,  at  this 
last  moment ; and  if  the  days  had  not  been  so  short,  must  have 
wholly  overthrown  them  ; for  their  ammunition  was  nearly  ex- 
hausted, and  the  rising  of  the  tide  in  the  river  behind  them 
would  have  hemmed  them  in  between  itself  and  the  extended 
lines  of  the  British.  But  the  darkness  came  on,  and  the  officer 
now  in  command,  Sir  John  Hope,  embarked  the  troops,  according 
to  previous  arrangements ; and  they  left  the  Galician  shore 
without  further  molestation. 

The  officer  now  in  command  was  Sir  John  Hope ; for,  before 
the  embarkation  began,  Sir  John  Moore  was  dead  and  Death  of 
buried.  While  he  was  watching  the  critical  point,3  sir  John 
in  the  critical  moment  of  the  battle,  a cannon-shot,  Moore' 
shattering  the  left  shoulder,  struck  him  from  his  horse.  He  rose 
to  a siting  posture  on  the  ground,  and  his  eyes  were  still  fixed 
on  the  thick  of  the  struggle.  His  countenance  brightened  when 
he  saw  that  the  English  were  working  onward.  As  the  soldiers 
carried  him  in  a blanket  from  the  field,  he  repeatedly  made 
them  turn  round,  that  he  might  see  whether  the  fight  was  still 
going  well.  He  was  so  quiet,  under  his  intense  pain,  that 

1 Napier,  i.  p.  492.  2 Ibid.  pp.  493,  494.  3 Ibid.  pp.  497,  499. 


268 


GLOOMY  ASPECT  OE  THE  WAR. 


[Book  II. 


some  soldiers  hoped  he  would  do  well ; but  he  loosed  stead- 
fastly at  his  wound,  and  said  that  it  was  impossible  that  he 
should  live.  He  was  calm  to  the  last ; said  he  had  always 
wished  to  die  this  way ; he  was  gratified  that  we  had  beaten  the 
French ; he  hoped  the  people  of  England  would  be  satisfied  — 
that  his  country  would  do  him  justice.  He  was  full  of  interest 
about  his  officers,  and  the  acknowledgments  due  to  their  merits  ; 
and  the  only  moment  of  agitation  was  when  he  spoke  of  his 
mother.  The  guns  which  boomed  when  his  body,  wrapped  in  a 
cloak,  was  laid  in  a grave  hastily  dug  in  the  ramparts  of  the 
old  citadel  of  Corunna,  were  those  of  the  French,  letting  the 
battle  drop,  as  the  British  pressed  them  hard.  Those  who 
buried  him  had  to  hasten,  as  the  signal  was  given  for  embarking. 
But  every  one  is  familiar  with  the  incidents  of  that  burial, 
through  the  noble  dirge  — “Not  a drum  was  heard”  — which 
carries  a funereal  gloom  and  pathos  into  the  hearts  of  those  who 
know  nothing  else  of  Sir  John  Moore  but  that  he  there  died, 
and  was  so  buried. 

Government  at  once  made  it  appear  that  Sir  John  Moore  was 
too  great,  and  his  conduct  under  the  circumstances  into  which 
they  had  sent  him  too  admirable,  for  their  appreciation.  They 
spoke  of  him  with  a cold  disfavor,  in  parliament,  which  showed 
how  little  they  had  of  his  patience,  his  prudence,  and  his  forti- 
tude. Others,  and  not  a few,  whose  feelings  on  behalf  of  Spain 
were  less  shallow,  and  less  petulant  and  passionate,  though  not 
less  devoted,  did  justice  to  the  General  who  went  out  to  war,  and 
found  himself  opposed,  not  immediately  to  a flesh-and-blood  sol- 
diery, but,  first,  to  a dread  invisible  force  of  Adversity.  He  hero- 
ically accepted  that  post  from  which  every  man  must  feel  an  in- 
ward recoil ; that  generalship  which  no  man  can  seek  or  desire. 
His  lot  at  the  time  seemed  hard,  even  to  his  depredators : his 
lot  seems  now,  with  time,  glorious  to  their  hearts’  content  to 
those  who  loved  him  best.  When  the  petulance  and  passion  of 
the  day  were  over,  his  last  wish  began  to  be  fulfilled  ; and  now, 
the  people  of  England  are  satisfied  ; and  Sir  John  Moore’s  coun- 
trymen do  him  justice. 

Thus  mournfully  began  the  year  1809,  and  thus  were  the  hopc- 
less  justified  so  far  in  their  despair  of  the  cause  of 
pect  of  the  Spam.  I here  was  rough  controversy  in  parliament 
about  the  conduct  of  the  Spanish  war,  and  the  conclu- 
sion of  the  Portuguese  branch  of  it.  It  is  difficult  for  us  of  the 
present  day,  accustomed  as  we  are  to  the  glory  of  the  British 
arms,  to  conceive  of  the  irritation,  the  shame,  the  disgust  — not  to 
say  the  fear  — with  which  foreign  campaigns  were  regarded,  before 
our  arms  had  begun  to  be  glorious  in  the  contest  with  Napoleon. 
The  names  cf  Nelson  and  other  naval  commanders  were  adored ; 


Chap.  II.] 


WALCHEREN  EXPEDITION. 


269 


not  only  for  what  the  men  did,  but  because  their  names  stood 
between  us  and  disgrace.  The  whole  misery  was  not  understood 
by  the  people  at  large  : the  incapacity,  self-will,  and  wrong- 
headedness, of  the  royal  family,  and  of  the  War  Minister,  Lord 
Castlereagh.  Government  was  called  to  account  in  parliament, 
and  some  experienced  officers  and  displaced  statesmen  spoke  their 
minds  very  plainly;  but  the  people  generally  had  only  an  oppres- 
sive and  exasperated  feeling  that  we  were,  as  we  had  been  for 
years,  paying  money  lavishly  without  any  visible  result ; that  we 
were  not  succeeding ; and  that  Napoleon  was  not  only  unchecked, 
but  extending  his  tyranny  every  year  with  a relentless  continu- 
ance too  like  the  spread  of  the  shadow  of  an  eclipse,  not  now  far 
from  being  total. 

If  the  aspect  of  affairs  was  thus  gloomy  at  the  opening  of  1809, 
it  was  so  much  the  more  so  at  the  close,  as  no  efforts  in  opposition 
to  the  conqueror  had  been  of  any  avail.  In  July,  three  weeks 
after  the  fatal  battle  of  Wagram,  the  British  and  Spaniards  won 
the  hard-fought  battle  of  Talavera,  in  Castile ; and  the  gallant 
Wellesley  seemed  to  have  driven  back  the  French  at  last ; 1 but 
fresh  combined  forces  poured  down  upon  him ; and,  in  the  begin- 
ning of  August,  he  found  that  he  could  save  his  army  only  “ by 
great  celerity  of  movement.”  It  was  only  where  he  (now  become 
Lord  Wellington)  prevailed  by  his  presence  and  authority,  that 
anything  was  done.  The  Spaniards  so  failed  him  and  one  an- 
other, that  he  was  obliged  to  retire  into  Portugal  and  entrench 
himself  upon  the  Tagus,  while  the  French  humbled  our  boastful 
allies  in  every  direction  where  they  chose  to  turn.  At 
the  close  of  1809,  all  the  fortresses  of  Spain  were  InSpam* 
in  French  hands,  and  all  the  Spanish  armies  were  routed.2 

There  was  nothing  in  the  conduct  of  the  war  in  other  quarters 
to  sustain  the  spirits  which  were  depressed  by  the  ruinous  condi- 
tion of  Spain.  An  expedition  was  sent  from  Sicily  — 15,000  men 
under  Sir  John  Stewart  — against  Naples  ; chiefly  for  the  pur- 
pose of  preventing  the  new  King  of  Naples  from  sending  his 
forces  out  against  Austria,  and  (at  least,  so  the  Neapolitans  be- 
lieved) also  for  the  restoration  of  Ferdinand  IV.  to  the  InItal 
throne.  Some  success  attended  the  British  and  Sicilian 
arms  at  first;  but  the  French  in  Naples  soon  cleared  the 
country  of  the  English.  The  expedition  went  out  in  June  ; and 
by  October,  we  had  no  footing  left  on  the  coast  or  islands  which 
at  first  appeared  to  have  been  gained. 

The  remaining  enterprise,  the  distinguishing  one  of  the  season, 
had  consequences  which  extended  through  a long  The  Wal_ 
course  of  years,  and  which,  indeed,  affected  the  desti-  cheren  t*x- 
nies  of  England  more  than  any  other  event  of  the  pedltl0n* 

1 Wellington  Despatches,  iv  p.  532.  2 Annual  Register,  1809,  p.  201. 


270 


MINISTERIAL  EMBARRASSMENTS.  [Book  II. 


time.  It  was  the  Walcheren  Expedition,  which  disgraced  the 
Government,  turned  the  poor  King’s  brain  beyond  recovery, 
removed  Mr.  Canning  from  the  government,  broke  up  an  admin- 
istration, and  caused  a sweep  of  mortality  among  the  British 
soldiery,  enough  to  bear  down  all  hope  and  heart,  at  the  most 
critical  time  of  the  war. 

Three  times  before,  during  the  war,  it  had  occurred  to  one  or 
another,  connected  with  the  government,  that  it  would  be  a good 
thing  to  hold  Antwerp,  and  command  the  Scheldt,  seize  the 
French  ships  in  the  river,  and  get  possession  of  their  arsenals  and 
dockyards.  On  each  occasion,  men  of  military  science  and  expe- 
rience had  been  consulted  ; and  invariably  they  had  pronounced 
against  the  scheme.  Now,  however,  what  Mr.  Pitt  had  consid- 
ered impracticable,  Lord  Castlereagh,  with  the  rashness  of  inca- 
pacity, resolved  should  be  done  ; and,  in  order  not  to  be  hindered, 
he  avoided  consulting  with  those  who  would  have  objected  to  the 
enterprise.  Though  the  scene  of  action  was  to  be  the  swamps  at 
the  mouths  of  the  Scheldt,  he  consulted  no  physician.  Having 
himself  neither  naval,  military,  nor  medical  knowledge,  he  as- 
sumed the  responsibility  — except  such  as  the  King  and  the  Duke 
of  York  chose  to  share.  As  for  the  poor  Duke  of  Portland,  he 
was  capable  of  doing  mischief  by  his  being  half  dead  ; how  much 
mischief,  soon  appeared ; but  he  was  past  doing  any  good  ; and  in 
this  great  affair  he  was  passive.  It  was  May,  1809,  before  any 
stir  was  apparent  which  could  lead  men  outside  the  Cabinet  to 
infer  that  an  expedition  for  the  Scheldt  was  in  contemplation  ; 
but  so  early  as  the  beginning  of  April  (it  is  now  known),1  Mr. 
Canning  signified  that  he  could  not  share  in  the  responsibility  of 
Ministerial  an  enterprise  which  must  so  involve  his  own  office ; 
embarrass-  that  he  could  not  act  with  a War  Minister  so  incapable 
as  Lord  Castlereagh  ; and  that,  if  Lord  Castlereagh 
was  not  removed,  he  himself  must  resign.2  The  Premier  begged 
for  a little  delay,  on  the  ground  that  a charge  against  Lord  Cas- 
tlereagh, of  trafficking  in  a seat  in  parliament,  was  then  under 
discussion  in  the  Commons  ; and  any  move  against  him  in  the 
Cabinet,  at  that  moment,  might  be  fatal  to  his  prospects.  In 
May,  when  the  preparations  for  the  Walcheren  Expedition  were 
becoming  known,  Mr.  Canning  again  urged  his  request.  The 
matter  was  laid  before  the  King,  and  communicated  to  Lord 
Camden,  Lord  Castlereagh’s  uncle.  Both  admitted  that  a change 
must  be  made ; and  the  King’s  wish  was,  that  the  foreign  corre- 
spondence should  be  wholly  transferred  to  Mr.  Cannings  depart- 
ment. But  this  would  still  have  left  Mr.  Canning  responsible 
for  the  Walcheren  Expedition  ; and  he  continued  to  urge  his  ob- 
jection, which  he,  from  that  time,  understood  to  be  adopted  by 
1 Ward’s  Memoirs,  i.  p.  219.  2 Life  of  Canning,  p.  247. 


Chap.  II.]  THE  FLEET  AND  COMMANDERS. 


271 


the  Cabinet.  The  Duke  of  Portland  afterwards  assumed  the 
entire  blame 1 of  so  concealing  the  affair,  as  that  Lord  Castlereagh 
was  kept  entirely  in  the  dark  as  to  the  Cabinet’s  opinion  of  his 
incapacity,  and  Mr.  Canning’s  objection  to  work  with  him.  When 
the  ships,  in  their  gallant  array,  were  riding  in  the  Channel,  be- 
fore the  eyes  of  the  French,  the  new  plea  arose  that  Lord  Castle- 
reagh must  be  allowed  to  complete  his  enterprise,  and  have  the 
credit  if  it  succeeded;  and  when  it  had  failed,  it  was  declaied 
that  such  was  not  the  moment  to  crush  him  ; and  irresistible 
appeals  were  made  to  Mr.  Canning  to  hold  on  till  the  affair  had 
blown  over.  Throughout  the  whole,  Mr.  Canning  was  sacrificed 
by  all  parties,  — the  King,  the  Premier,  and  Lord  Camden  ; and, 
next  to  him,  Lord  Castlereagh  was  the  injured  person  — no  power 
having  been  given  him  to  judge  and  act  in  his  own  case.  It  was 
not  till  the  autumn  that  his  position  was  revealed  to  him  through 
a fatal  explosion. 

The  fleet  that  rode  in  the  Channel  consisted  of  39  ships  of  the 
line,  36  frigates,  and  a due  proportion  of  small  vessels  : in  all,  245 
vessels  of  war ; and  400  transports  carried  40,000  soldiers. 
Only  one  hospital-ship  was  provided  for  the  whole  expedition, 
though  the  Surgeon- General  implored  the  grant  of  two  more. 
He  gave  his  reasons,  but  was  refused.  Mr.  Wilberforce  was  on 
the  Sussex  coast  when  the  noble  spectacle  of  the  great  armament 
passed  by ; and  he  was  full  of  misgivings,2  as  were  others  who, 
for  the  whole  course  of  the  war,  had  seen  the  successive  failures 
of  the  “ expeditions  ” sent  out  till,  as  Mr.  Wilberforce  said,  they 
had  become  sick  of  the  very  word.  The  naval  commander  was 
Sir  Richard  J.  Strachan,  whose  title  to  the  responsibility  no  one 
could  perceive,  while  many  who  had  more  experience  were  un- 
employed. The  military  command  was  given  (as  the  selection 
of  the  present  Cabinet  had  been)  to  Lord  Chatham,  for  no  better 
reason  than  that  he  was  a favorite  with  the  King  and  Queen, 
who  liked  his  gentle  and  courtly  manners,  and  his  easy  and  amia- 
ble temper.  It  was  wholly  a court  appointment,  expiated  by  the 
poor  King  at  length  more  bitterly  than  many  a crime  might  have 
been  by  a man  in  a lower  station.  The  fatal  mistake  was  made 
of  not  defining  the  respective  authorities  of  the  two  commanders ; 
and  both  being  inexperienced  or  apathetic,  each  relied  upon  the 
other  first,  and  cast  the  blame  of  failure  upon  him  afterwards. 
In  the  autumn,  an  epigram  of  unknown  origin  was  in  everybody’s 
mouth,  all  over  England : — 

“ Lord  Chatham,  with  his  sword  undrawn, 

Stood  waiting  for  Sir  Richard  Strachan; 

Sir  Richard,  longing  to  be  at  ’em, 

Stood  waiting  for  the  Earl  of  Chatham.” 


1 Ward’s  Memoirs,  i.  p.  239. 


2 Life,  iii.  pp.  414,  427. 


272 


RAVAGES  OF  FEVER. 


[Book  II. 


The  fleet  set  sail  on  the  28th  of  July,  and  was  on  the  coast  of 
Holland  the  next  day.  The  first  discovery  was  that  there  were 
not  boats  enough  to  land  the  troops  and  the  ordnance.  The  next 
was  that  no  plan  had  been  formed  about  how  to  proceed.  The 
most  experienced  officers  were  for  pushing  on  to  Antwerp,  forty- 
five  miles  off,  and  taking  it  before  it  could  be  prepared  for  defence  ; 
but  the  commanders  determined  to  take  Flushing  first.  They  set 
about  it  so  slowly  that  a fortnight  was  consumed  in  preparations. 
In  two  days  more,  on  the  15th  of  August,  Flushing  was  taken. 
After  this,  Lord  Chatham  paused  to  consider  what  he  should  do 
next ; and  it  was  the  21st  before  he  began  to  propose  to  go  on  to 
Antwerp.  Then  came  the  next  discovery,  that,  by  this  time,  two 
intermediate  places  had  been  so  strengthened  that  there  must  be 
some  fighting  on  the  way.  So  he  did  nothing  more  but  take  pos- 
session of  two  small  islands  near  Flushing.  Not  ano:her  blow 
was  struck ; not  another  league  was  traversed  by  this  magnificent 
expedition.  But  the  most  important  discovery  of  all  now  disclosed 
itself.  The  army  had  been  brought  into  the  swamps  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  sickly  season.  Fever  sprang  up  under  their  feet,  and 
3000  men  were  in  hospital  in  a few  days,  just  when  it  became 
necessary  to  reduce  the  rations,  because  provisions  were  falling 
short.  On  the  27th  of  August,  Lord  Chatham  held  a council  of 
war  to  resolve  that  “ it  was  not  advisable  to  pursue  further  opera- 
tions.”  1 But,  if  they  could  not  proceed,  neither  could  they  re- 
main where  they  were.  The  enemy  had  more  spirit  than  their 
invaders.  On  the  30th  and  31st,  such  a fire  was  opened  from 
both  banks  of  the  river,  that  the  ships  were  obliged  to  retire. 
Flushing  was  given  up,  and  everything  else  except  the  island  of 
Walcheren,  which  it  was  fatal  to  hold  at  this  season.  On  the  4th 
of  September,  most  of  the  ships  were  at  home  again  ; and  Lord 
Chatham  appeared  on  the  14th  Eleven  thousand  men  were  by 
that  time  in  the  fever,  and  he  brought  home  as  many  as  he  could. 
Sir  Eyre  Coote,  whom  he  left  in  command,  was  dismayed  to  see 
all  the  rest  sinking  down  in  disease,  at  the  rate  of  hundreds  in  a 
day.  Though  the  men  had  been  working  in  the  swamps,  up  to 
the  waist  in  marsh  water,  and  the  roofs  of  their  sleeping-places 
had  been  carried  off  by  bombardment,  so  that  they  slept  under  a 
canopy  of  autumn  fog,  it  was  supposed  that  a supply  of  Thames 
waier  to  drink  would  stop  the  sickness ; and  a supply  of  five  hun- 
dred tons  per  week  was  transmitted.  At  last,  at  the  end  of  Oc- 
tober, a hundred  English  bricklayers,  with  tools,  bricks,  and  mor- 
tar, were  sent  over  to  mend  the  roofs ; but  they  immediately 
dropped  into  the  hospitals.  Then  the  patients  were  to  be  accom- 
modated in  the  towns  ; but,  to  spare  the  inhabitants,  the  soldiers 
were  laid  down  in  damp  churches  ; and  their  bedding  had,  from 
1 Annual  Register,  1809,  p.  561. 


Chai*.  II.] 


INQUIRY  IN  PARLIAMENT. 


273 


the  beginning,  been  insufficient  for  their  need.  At  last,  govern- 
ment desired  the  chief  officers  of  the  army  Medical  Board  to  re- 
pair to  Waleheren,  and  see  what  was  the  precise  nature  of  the 
fever,  and  what  could  be  done.  The  Surgeon- General  and  the 
Physician-General  threw  the  duty  upon  each  other.  Govern- 
ment appointed  it  to  the  Physician-General,  Sir  Lucas  Pepys ; 
but  he  refused  to  go.  Both  officers  were  dismissed,  and  the 
medical  department  of  the  army  was  reorganized,  and  greatly  im- 
proved. The  deaffis  were  at  this  time  from  two  to  three  hundred 
a week.1  When  Waleheren  was  evacuated,  on  the  23d  of  De- 
cember, nearly  half  the  force  sent  out  five  months  before  were 
dead  or  missing;  and  of  those  who  returned,  35,000  were  admit- 
ted into  the  hospitals  of  England  before  the  next  1st  of  June. 
Twenty  millions  sterling  were  spent  on  this  expedition.  It  was 
the  purchase-money  of  tens  of  thousands  of  deaths,  and  of  inef- 
faceable national  disgrace. 

That  the  whole  affair  would  be  brought  under  the  notice  of 
parliament  might  have  been  considered  a matter  of  inquiry  in 
course  ; yet  Lord  Chatham  took  a step  which,  after  it  Parliament, 
had  been  debated  upon,  caused  his  retirement  from  office  under 
an  imputation  of  underhand  dealing.  He  delivered  into  the 
King’s  own  hand  a private  statement  of  his  case,  which,  of  course, 
involved  an  accusation  of  his  colleague,  Sir  Richard  Strachan. 
Some  time  after  the  whole  discussion  was  over,  he  complained  in 
private  of  the  conduct  of  the  Ministers  to  him,2  declaring  that  he 
did  not  mean  his  letter  to  be  concealed  from  them  ; and  that  this 
was  well  known  to  Mr.  Perceval ; that  he  had  laid  it  down  sealed, 
declared  what  it  was,  and  desired  that  it  might  be  read  whenever 
Sir  Richard  Strachan  should  deliver  in  his  statement.  The  Min- 
istry resisted  the  motion  of  Lord  Porchester  for  an  inquiry  into 
the  Waleheren  business,  three  days  after  the  next  meeting  of 
parliament ; but  they  were  beaten  ; and  again  they  were  defeated 
on  the  question  of  the  production  of  Lord  Chatham’s  private 
statement.  On  this  last  point,  the  King  was  necessarily  brought 
into  court  as  a witness.  He  declared  that  such  a document  could 
not  be  produced,3  because  it  no  longer  existed.  The  original 
statement  had  been  put  into  his  hands,  with  an  humble  request 
that  it  might  be  kept  secret ; the  writer  had  asked  for  it  back 
again,  in  order  to  insert  some  corrections  ; and  when  it  was  again 
proffered,  the  writer  was  referred  to  the  Secretary  of  State. 
Every  effort  was  made  by  the  Court  and  the  Ministry  to  screen 
Lord  Chatham  ; and  they  so  far  succeeded  as  to  bear  down  a 
vote  of  censure  on  him  in  parliament.  At  seven  in  the  morning 
of  Saturday,  the  31st  of  March,  1810,  three  divisions  gave  ma- 

1 Annual  Register,  1809,  p.  225.  2 Ward’s  Memoirs,  i.  p.  369. 

8 Annual  Register,  1810,  p.  57. 

VOL.  i.  18 


274 


LORD  COLLINGWOOD. 


[Book  II. 


jorities  to  Ministers  of  40,  48,  and  51.1  But  this  availed  little 
to  their  colleague,  whose  reputation  was  past  saving  by  any  par- 
liamentary vote.  He  resigned  his  seat  in  the  Cabinet,  and  was 
succeeded,  after  an  interval  of  a few  weeks,  by  Lord  Mulgrave. 
It  was  a matter  of  deep  concern  to  the  friends  of  Mr.  Pitt  to  be 
compelled  to  pronounce  on  the  conduct  of  his  brother ; but  the 
mournful  silence  of  some  told  against  him  as  strongly  as  the  open 
censure  of  others;  and  he  was  a ruined  man,  as  regarded  his 
political  career. 

Some  few  successes  at  sea  came  at  intervals  to  relieve  the 
Naval  sue-  gloom  of  the  war,  and  save  the  nation  from  the  super- 
cesses.  stition  that  Napoleon  was  invulnerable.  Lord  Coch- 
rane was  a brave  and  spirited  commander.  When  under  Admi- 
ral Gambier,  in  the  spring  of  1809,  he  destroyed  a considerable 
part  of  the  French  fleet  off  Rochefort.  Four  ships  of  the  line 
were  taken  and  blown  up  at  their  anchorage  ; 2 and  seven  more 
ran  ashore,  and  were  either  destroyed  or  wholly  disabled.  The 
French  had  placed  a boom  in  front  of  their  line  for  a defence  ; 
but  the  British  ships,  coming  down  with  all  their  weight,  under 
favor  of  a strong  north  wind  and  a flood-tide,  broke  through  the 
boom,  and  carried  all  before  them.  Only  ten  lives  were  lost  on 
the  British  side  in  this  action,  while  the  prisoners  taken  were 
several  hundreds.  The  British  success  in  decimating  the  French 
navy  seems  to  have  been  invariable.  As  soon  as  it  began  to  re- 
vive, it  was  cut  down  again.  The  brave  and  noble  Collingwood, 
Lord  Col-  now  gradually  sinking  under  the  pressure  of  fatigue, 
lingwood.  anxiety,  and  homesickness,  (for  he  had  never  been 
permitted  to  enjoy  more  than  one  single  year  of  repose  since  he 
left  home  after  his  marriage,  and  had  never  met  Lady  Colling- 
wood but  twice  for  many  years,)  was  yet  vigorous  in  professional 
action.  It  is  a touching  story  — that  of  his  long  years’  services 
in  the  Mediterranean.  He  kept  Napoleon  in  check  and  in  awe; 
he  saw  his  ship  wearing  out  in  the  tempests  and  tossings  of  that 
great  gulf  of  which  he  was  sorely  weary  ; and  he  felt  thal  he 
was  himself  wearing  out  under  a worse  stress  of  the  mind  and 
heart:  but  he  held  on  bravely,  with  a mournful  patience  which 
rebukes  the  impatience  of  the  readers  of  his  letters  ; and  the 
conqueror  felt  to  the  last  the  restraint  of  his  prese  nce  in  the 
world.  He  was  novv  never  more  to  see  wife  or  child  ; but  they 
were  still  to  hear  of  his  deeds  for  some  months  longer.  In  Oc- 
tober, 1809, 8 he  destroyed  a French  fleet,  consisting  of  three  sail 
of  the  line  and  four  frigates,  convoying  twenty  large  transports 
which  were  carrying  relief  from  Toulon  to  Barcelona.  In  the 
same  autumn,  a squadron  from  his  fleet  took  several  Greek  isl- 

l Hansard,  xvi.  p.  421.  2 Despatch,  Annual  Register,  1809,  p.  429. 

8 Despatches,  Annual  Register,  1809,  p.  5G9. 


Chap.  II.] 


TROUBLES  WITH  AMERICA. 


275 


ands,  before  garrisoned  by  the  French.1  Upon  this  the  govern- 
ment of  the  Seven  Islands  was  immediately  restored,  to  the 
great  joy  of  the  inhabitants.  After  these  feats,  Lord  Colling- 
wood  gravely  represented  to  government  the  peril  to  his  life  of 
remaining  longer  at  sea  without  rest ; and  on  the  27th  of  March, 
1810,  Lord  Mulgrave  wrote  the  long-desired  permission  to  him 
to  come  home.  Sir  Charles  Cotton  was  to  take  his  place  ; and 
the  members  of  the  government  looked  forward  with  pleasure 
to  the  opportunity  of  testifying  their  respect  and  gratitude,  and  to 
the  happy  spectacle  of  his  recovery  in  his  own  home.2  So  said 
tin  letter  written  by  Lord  Mulgrave.  It  came  back  to  the  Admi- 
ralty with  the  seal  unbroken.  Lord  Collingwood  had  ffis 
died  three  weeks  before  its  date.  Ilis  was  as  hard  a 
professional  life  as  his  friend  Nelson's,  and  a harder  death.  His 
moral  life  was  an  easier  one,  notwithstanding  all  its  dreadful  pri- 
vations ; for  he  was  a virtuous  man,  whose  home  was  always  a 
thought  of  peace.  Sickened  as  his  heart  was  by  hope  deferred, 
and  tantalized  affections,  it  had  no  storms  of  passion  and  of  shame 
to  sustain.  We  are  abashed  at  the  thought  of  pitying  one  so 
good  and  great ; yet  a tender  and  respectful  pity  is  perhaps  the 
first  feeling  called  up  by  the  name  of  Collingwood,  in  those  who 
have  contemplated  his  life. 

Among  the  troubles  consequent  on  the  European  war,  we  had 
now  to  reckon  a quarrel  with  the  United  States,  which  was  becom- 
ing more  serious  from  year  to  year. 

The  anti-commercial  decrees  of  Napoleon  were  issued  in  No- 
vember and  December,  1806.  One  of  the  articles  of  Troubles 
these  decrees  ordained  that  no  ship  should  be  admitted  with 
into  any  port  under  the  control  of  France  without  a America- 
certificate  which  should  declare  where  she  came  from,  and  that 
no  part  of  her  cargo  was  English.  The  British  government 
hoped  that  if  a retaliatory  decree  should  be  issued  by  them,  neu- 
tral states  would  be  roused  by  the  injury  to  their  commerce  to 
resent  and  resist  the  “ Continental  System  ” of  Napoleon ; and 
Lord  Grenville’s  Administration  therefore  issued  an  Order  in 
Council,  in  January,  1807,  which  interdicted  the  pas-  orders  in 
sage  of  vessels  between  any  two  ports  which  were  not  Council, 
freely  open  to  British  commerce.3  No  good  effects  being  found 
to  result  from  this  measure,  the  Portland  Administration  followed 
it  up,  in  the  next  November,  by  a more  stringent  Order,4  which 
provided  that,  with  certain  exceptions,  all  ports,  in  the  colonies 
or  elsewhere,  from  which  the  British  flag  was  excluded,  should 
be  considered,  in  regard  to  trade  and  navigation,  as  in  a state  of 
blockade ; and  that  all  vessels  trading  to  or  from  such  ports,  or 

1 Despatches,  Annual  Register,  1809,  p.  589.  2 Ward’s  Memoirs,  i.  p.  199. 

3 Annual  Register,  1807,  p.  671.  4 ibid.  p.  746. 


276 


ORDERS  IN  COUNCIL  MODIFIED.  [Book  II. 


carrying  any  produce  or  manufactures  of  such  countries  or  colo- 
nies, should  be  considered,  with  their  cargoes,  lawful  prize  to 
their  captors.  The  Opposition  not  only  protested  against  the 
policy  of  such  a proclamation  as  this,  but  questioned  its  legality  ; 
and  the  matter  was  hotly  contested  in  parliament  during  the  ses- 
sion of  1808. 

The  American  government  had  made  it  clearly  understood  at 
the  Courts  of  London  and  Paris  that  it  had  never  acquiesced  in 
the  original  decree  of  Napoleon  ; and  its  indignation  at  the  Brit- 
ish Orders  in  Council,  which,  if  duly  executed,  would  annihilate 
American  commerce,  was  naturally  strong.  An  Act  of  Embargo 
was  passed  by  Congress,  interdicting  commerce  with  both  Eng- 
land and  France  ; and  by  the  end  of  the  summer,  the  American 
newspapers  were  proclaiming  the  consequent  national  loss  to  be 
48,000,000  of  dollars,1  and  pointing  out,  in  a very  stimulating 
manner,  how  many  national  benefits  might  have  been  achieved 
with  such  a sum  as  that.  In  August,  the  American  Minister,  Mr. 
Pinckney,  made  advances  towards  an  accommodation,  proposing 
that  if  American  commerce  were  expressly  exempted  from  the 
provisions  of  the  Orders  in  Council,  the  American  embargo 
should  be  removed.  Time  had  been  afforded  for  some  such  ami- 
cable arrangements  with  the  United  States  by  a Bill  which  had 
passed  in  the  spring,  “for  the  regulaton  of  intercourse  with 
America,”  and  an  envoy,  Mr.  Rose,  had  repaired  to  Washington, 
to  negotiate  an  arrangement.  It  became  our  government  to 
make  every  effort  to  satisfy  the  Americans,  because  we  had 
certainly  in  one  case  offended  against  international  law  and  un- 
derstanding. A sea-fight  had  actually  taken  place  from  the  com- 
mander of  the  British  ship  “ Leopard  ” having  attacked  an  Amer- 
ican frigate,  poured  three  broadsides  into  her  and  boarded  her, 
because  she  refused  to  permit  a search  for  deserters.2  Mr.  Can- 
ning, on  hearing  the  news,  at  once  avowed  to  the  American  Min- 
ister in  London  that  the  Commander  of  the  “ Leopard  ” had 
enforced  an  untenable  claim.  Mr.  Rose  returned  without  hav- 
ing effected  any  accommodation.  Mr.  Pinckney’s  offer,  made  in 
August,  did  not  close  the  dispute ; and  Mr.  Erskine  was  sent 
out,3  to  try  what  he  could  do  on  occasion  of  a change  of  Presi- 
dent— Mr.  Madison  succeeding  Jefferson  in  1809.  At  the  be- 
ginning of  that  year,  the  danger  of  a war  seemed  imminent  — re- 
volting as  was  the  idea  of  such  a war  arising  out  of  the  mutual 
injuries  of  two  European  powers,  who  were  trying  to  ruin  each 
other.  The  repugnance  of  the  Opposition  was  so  strongly  ex- 
pressed in  parliament  at  the  beginning  of  the  session,  that  in 
April  the  British  government  modified  their  Orders  in  Council4 

1 Annual  Register,  1808.  Chron.  85.  2 Ibid.  1807,  p.  228. 

8 Ibid.  1809.  State  Papers,  752.  4 Ibid.  State  Papers,  763. 


Chap.  II.]  CHARGES  AGAINST  THE  DUKE  OF  YORK.  277 


so  as  to  favor  America  expressly,  by  opening  to  her  shipping  the 
Baltic,  the  German  Ocean,  part  of  Italy,  and  the  foreign  posses- 
sions of  the  Dutch.  This  was  so  far  well ; but  there  was  a 
strong  feeling  in  both  countries  that  the  mischief  was  not  over. 
With  an  enemy  like  Napoleon,  apt  and  eager  about  embroiling 
his  antagonists,  and  with  a Ministry  like  that  which  now  gov- 
erned England,  at  once  weak  and  insolent,  the  nation  had  well- 
nigh  lust  hope  of  not  having  the  whole  world  against  her,  while 
contempt  was  every  year  mixing  more  largely  with  the  dislike 
with  which  England  was  regarded.  Nelson  was  gone  ; and 
Wellington  had  not  yet  had  opportunity  to  vindicate  his  country’s 
name.  Her  name  and  fame  were  at  this  date  very  low,  while 
Napoleon  was  at  the  summit  of  his.  Causes  were  in  operation 
which  were  to  turn  the  scale  ; but  nobody  yet  knew  it ; and  the 
national  heart  was  heavy  enough  in  the  year  1809. 

Besides  foreign  adversity,  there  was,  this  year,  domestic  dis- 
grace. The  King  was  proud  of  his  second  son.  While  harsh 
towards  the  Prince  of  Wales  and  the  Duke  of  Kent,  and  not  apt 
to  be  affectionate  to  anybody,  he  seems  to  have  been  really  fond 
of  the  Duke  of  YY>rk.  And  externally  there  seemed  Charges 
to  be  reason  for  it.  The  Duke  had  for  seventeen  years  DukeSofthe 
been  respectably  married.  The  old  reports  of  his  gam-  York, 
ing  tendencies  had  died  away ; and  it  was  undisputed  that  he  had 
considerably  improved  the  organization  and  discipline  of  the 
army.  Yet  rumors  were  abroad  of  something  being  wrong ; proph- 
ecies that  a new  Commander-in-Chief  would  soon  be  wanted  ; 
intimations  that  further  afflictions  were  in  store  for  the  poor  old 
King ; and  expressions  of  compassion  for  the  Duchess  of  York. 
With  the  opening  of  1809  all  was  made  clear.  On  the  27th  of 
January,  the  well-known  Mr.  Wardle,  a colonel  of  militia,  and  com- 
monly called  Colonel  Wardle,  drew  the  attention  of  the  House  1 
to  the  danger  the  country  must  be  placed  in,  at  such  a time  as  the 
present,  by  corruption  in  the  Military  Departments  of  the  state. 
He  indicated  a house  in  Gloucester  Place,  splendid  with  carriages, 
servants,  and  fine  furniture,  as  the  nest  of  the  corruption  he  spoke 
of.  In  this  house,  he  said,  the  Duke  of  York  had  placed  his  mis- 
tress — a woman  named  Mary  Anne  Clarke  — who  was  in  the 
habit,  as  could  be  proved,  of  selling  offices  in  the  army,  by  means 
of  her  favor  with  the  Commander-in-Chief.  Mrs.  Clarke  had,  in 
one  instance,  taken  a bribe  of  500/.,  which  she  paid  over  to  a 
silversmith  as  part-payment  for  a service  of  plate  — the  Duke  of 
York  discharging  the  remainder.  Other  cases  were  detailed 
which  convinced  the  hearers,  in  the  midst  of  their  consternation, 
that  there  must  be  some  gnound  for  the  charges.  The  positions 
laid  down  by  Colonel  Wardle  were,  that  Mrs.  Clarke  possessed 
1 Hansard,  xii.  p.  179. 


278 


PARLIAMENTARY  INQUIRY. 


[Book  II. 


the  power  of  military  promotion ; that  she  took  money  for  the  use 
of  that  power ; and  that  the  Commander-in-Chief  shared  the 
money.  There  were  further  allegations  of  Mrs.  Clarke  having 
been  bribed  by  clergymen  and  gentlemen  to  procure  appoint- 
ments in  the  Church  and  the  State ; but  the  military  abuses  were 
those  that  the  House  had  first  to  deal  with.  The  members  of  the 
government,  while  indignantly  denying  the  charges,  desired,  on 
the  part  of  the  Duke  of  York,  a full  and  fair  trial  of  his  conduct. 
This  was  eagerly  agreed  to  by  all  but  a few  political  fanatics,  who 
pronounced  the  whole  business  to  be  a tail-piece  of  the  French 
Revolution,  which  it  would  be  dangerous  to  countenance  by  any 
attention  whatever.  When  they  had  said  what  they  had  to  say, 
the  question  was  debated  whether  the  method  should  be  by  a 
Secret  Committee,  bound  to  publish  the  results  of  the  evidence, 
or  in  open  House.  The  friends  of  decency  desired  the  Secret 
Pariiamen-  Committee ; but  the  majority  saw  reasons  enough  for 
tary  inquiry.  a more  open  investigation  to  procure  it;  and  for  two 
months,  the  time  of  parliament  and  the  attention  of  the  public 
were  wholly  engrossed  by  the  subject  and  its  infamous  details. 
Spain  was  forgotten ; and  Napoleon  himself  was  almost  lost 
sight  of,  while  Mrs.  Clarke  and  her  associates  came  down  through 
crowded  streets,  and  passed  into  the  House  through  a lane  of 
gazers,  to  give  evidence  at  the  bar.  The  woman  was  wholly  un- 
abashed — in  full  possession  of  her  wit  and  grace,  and  so  ready 
with  the  story  of  her  successive  amours  as  to  alarm  certain  of  her 
hearers,  and  stimulate  the  vicious  curiosity  of  the  whole  nation. 
Wilberforce,  whose  sensitive  and  religious  nature  was  tortured 
during  the  whole  process  of  inquiry,  observed  that  it  was  u cu- 
rious to  see  how  she  won  upon  people.”  1 The  extreme  liberals 
in  parliament  were  tolerant  to  her,  and  more  than  tolerant,  for 
the  good  they  thought  she  was  doing  in  overthrowing  any  popular 
veneration  for  the  royal  family,  and  exposing  the  corruption  that 
was  at  the  heart  of  the  administration  of  the  most  important  of 
public  affairs.  The  truest  lovers  of  their  country  mourned,  and . 
almost  despaired.  For  some  years,  the  popular  temper  had  been 
grc  wing  savage  under  the  stimulus  which  a long  war  affords  to 
the  brutal  passions.  The  rapid  increase  of  crimes  of  violence  had 
been  unquestionable  for  some  time  past.  There  were  more  mur- 
ders, and  they  were  of  a more  savage  nature  ; and  a new  brutal- 
ity had  introduced  itself  into  commoner  offences.  And  now  it 
seemed  as  if  the  domestic  virtue  of  the  nation  was  to  be  tainted, 
and  the  imagination  was  to  be  familiarized  with  licentiousness. 
Much  vice  became  suddenly  shameless  ; the  newspapers  became 
at  once  “ indecent  publications  ; ” and  the  spectacle  was  presented 
of  the  national  legislature  forgetting  or  excusing  the  vice  of  the 
1 Life,  iii.  p.  403. 


Chap.  II.] 


INVESTIGATION  OF  CHARGES. 


279 


case  in  the  entertainment  afforded  by  the  unrestrained  cleverness 
of  the  singular  witness  they  had  called  to  their  bar.  The  subject 
of  the  domestic  virtues  of  the  sovereign  was  dropped  while  his 
eldest  and  third  sons  were  living  in  open  adultery,  and  the  second 
and  favorite  son,  the  best  public  servant  of  the  family,  was  upon 
his  trial  before  the  country  for  profligacy  like  that  which  was  now 
laid  open.1  In  the  churches,  the  worshippers  remembered  that 
certain  of  the  clergy  had  paid  court  to  the  mistress  of  a Prince, 
however  they  might  spurn  the  less  guilty  outcasts  in  the  streets. 
In  the  country  towns,  men  anxiously  noted  the  amusement  their 
representatives  evinced  under  the  sallies  of  Mrs.  Clarke’s  wit  at 
the  bar  of  the  House.  In  the  streets  through  which  the  Duchess 
of  York  might  have  been  passing,  the  sweeps  and  errand-boys, 
playing  at  pitch-and-toss,  cried,  not  “ Heads  or  Tails,  ” but  “ Duke 
or  Darling.”  Even  they  had  picked  up  that  word  from  the  evi- 
dence, though  they  could  not  read  it.  Among  the  tens  of  thou- 
sands who  were  so  soon  to  mourn  over  the  plague-ravages  of 
Walcheren,  there  were  many  who  suffered  more  from  this  moral 
Walcheren  campaign  which  had  to  be  gone  through  first. 

It  appeared  so  plainly,  during  the  investigation,  that  Mrs. 
Clarke  acted  in  a spirit  of  vindictiveness  against  the  Duke,  with 
whom  she  had  quarrelled  ; it  was  so  clear  that  she  was  now  in  close 
connection  with  Colonel  Wardle ; and  her  word  was  so  evidently 
worth  nothing  at  all,  that  hopes  began  to  be  entertained  by  those 
who  dreaded  “ a popular  triumph  ” that  the  affair  would  blow 
over.  But  it  was  too  serious  for  that.  It  was  understood  that 
the  Ministers  thought  that  the  alternative  lay  between  the  Duke’s 
resignation,  and  his  impeachment  by  parliament ; and  when  it 
was  rumored  that  the  Duke  steadily  refused  to  resign,  the  Oppo- 
sition leaders  were  dismayed.2  They  said  that,  if  it  once  came 
to  an  impeachment,  all  was  lost ; for  the  Lords  would  certainly 
acquit.  Lord  Malmesbury  asserted 8 that  the  Duke’s  accusers  were 
“ instigated  by  levelling  principles,  and  had  no  other  view  than 
the  sinking  and  degrading  all  rank  ; ” Lord  Eldon 4 was  calling 
the  House  of  Commons  the  “ blood-hounds  of  St.  Stephen’s ; ” 
and  Lord  Melville,  of  all  men,  was  busying  himself  in  the  Duke’s 
defence.  It  was  feared  that  all  constitutional  safeguards  would 
be  broken  through,  to  save  a member  of  the  royal  family.  But 
the  minority  in  the  Commons  was  too  considerable,  and  in  every 
way  too  respectable,  to  be  slighted ; and  the  object  of  the  inquiry 
was  presently  obtained.  As  soon  as  the  evidence  had  been  all 
received,  the  Duke  of  York  addressed  a letter  to  the  Speaker  of 
the  Commons,5  dated  February  23d,  in  which,  after  expressing 
shame  at  the  connection  which  had  brought  his  public  virtue  into 

1 Annual  Register,  1807,  pp.  143-145.  2 Memoirs  of  Horner,  i.  p.  452. 

8 Diaries,  iv.  p.  418.  4 Life,  ii.  pp.  69,  71.  5 Hansard,  xii.  p.  132. 


280 


DUKE  OF  YORK.  — COL.  WARDLE.  [Book  II. 


question,  he  declared  on  his  honor,  as  a prince,  in  the  most  solemn 
manner,  that  he  was  wholly  ignorant  of  the  traffic  carried  on  by 
Mrs.  Clarke.  If  this  was  true  — and  to  doubt  the  word  of  any 
gentleman  so  offered  was  very  painful  — a note  which  had  come, 
by  a sort  of  accident,  into  the  possession  of  the  House  must  have 
been  a forgery,  though  the  handwriting  was  declared  to  be  his 
by  many  witnesses  from  the  Post-Office  and  the  Bank.  Night 
after  night,  the  subject  was  debated  — the  House  rising  sometimes 
at  three  in  the  morning,  and  sometimes  at  six.1  On  the  17th  of 
March,  there  was  a division  on  a Resolution  of  Mr.  Perceval’s, 
that  the  Duke  had  no  guilty  knowledge  of  the  corrupt  proceed- 
ings proved.  The  majority  on  this  occasion  was  only  82  in  a 
House  of  465  members.  There  was  to  be  one  more  debate 
at  least : on  a motion  of  Mr.  Bathurst’s  for  an  Address  to  the 
Resignation  King,  requiring  the  resignation  of  the  Commander-in- 
of  the  Duke  Chief.  But  the  Duke  anticipated  the  decision  of  the 
of  Vork.  House  by  voluntarily  resigning  his  office.  On  the  20th 
of  March,  Mr.  Perceval  read  to  the  House  parts  of  the  Duke’s 
letter  to  the  King,2  in  which  he  declared  that,  as  the  House  of 
Commons  had  declared  him  innocent  of  the  charge  of  corruption, 
he  could  approach  his  Majesty,  to  offer  his  resignation  of  his 
office,  without  being  supposed  to  do  so  from  fear  of  the  result. 
Under  the  circumstances,  this  mode  of  expression  was  not  wise 
or  graceful  — any  more  than  the  claim  he  advanced  to  credit  for 
patience  and  firmness  in  meeting  the  inquiry. 

The  Duke  was  displaced ; but  there  was  a general  expecta- 
tion that  he  would  not  long  remain  out  of  office.  Lord  Althorp 
wished  the  House  to  pass  a Resolution  which  should  exclude  him 
from  office  permanently;  but  for  this  parliament  was  not  disposed. 
They  regarded  the  Duke  as  having  been  infatuated  by  the  arts 
of  a corrupt  person,  and  led  into  misconduct  in  his  office  which 
merited  a severe  check  ; but,  apart  from  this,  his  deserts  as  Com- 
mander-in-Chief  were  too  eminent  to  permit  a nation  so  ill-served 
as  England  was  at  present  to  banish  from  public  affairs  one  of 
her  ablest  officers.  General  Sir  David  Dundas  as-umed  for  a 
time  the  vacant  place  at  the  Horse  Guards  ; and  the  Duke  of 
York  returned  to  it  in  1811.  As  regarded  Colonel  Wardle,  the 
conclusion  was  somewhat  ludicrous.  Public  meetings  were  held 
in  honor  of  his  patriotism  and  chivalrous  courage,3  and  addresses 
were  sent  up  to  him  from  Glasgow  and  Canterbury,  from  Lon- 
don, W estminster,  and  the  county  of  Middlesex,  and  many  more. 
Before  all  had  had  time  to  address  him,  he  was  condemned  to  a 
payment  of  2000/. 4 a? id  costs  at  the  suit  of  the  upholsterer  who 
had  furnished  Mrs.  Clarke’s  house  at  the  Colonel’s  expense. 

1 Hansard,  xiii.  p.  709.  2 Ibid.  p.  712. 

8 Annual  Register,  1809,  p.  148.  4 Ibid.  p.  127. 


Chap.  II.] 


INQUIRY  INTO  ABUSES. 


281 


The  Colonel  published  in  the  newspapers  a protest  and  vindica- 
tion, grounded  on  a charge  of  perjury  against  Mrs.  Clarke  and 
her  abettors.  This  issue  wrought  strongly  in  favor  of  the  Duke 
of  York,  and  facilitated  his  return  to  office.  After  making  every 
allowance,  however,  it  is  impossible  not  to  feel  disgust  at  the  tone 
of  the  courtiers  on  the  occasion.  The  pious  Lord  Eldon  — the 
man  supremely  favored  in  the  possession  of  a Conscience 1 — is 
found  writing  in  his  most  sentimental  style  about  the  affecting 
letters  of  the  King,  and  the  most  affecting  letters  of  the  Duke, 
and  the  handsome  and  dignified  way  in  which  they  behaved  to 
the  Ministers,  while  we  find  not  a word  about  the  injury  to  meri- 
torious officers  of  being  kept  down  in  favor  of  men  who  would 
rise  by  bribing  a courtesan  ; not  a word  about  the  iniquity  and 
woe  of  corrupting  the  military  service ; not  a word  of  reproba- 
tion of  the  profligacy  for  which  no  language  would  have  been 
severe  enough  if  it  bad  been  chargeable  upon  an  Opposition 
nobleman,  or  any  man  whose  rank  placed  him  under  the  feet  of 
the  sanctimonious  Lord  Eldon. 

Scarcely  was  this  strife  over  when  another,  which  was  all  the 
while  preparing,  burst  forth. 

The  revelations  induced  in  the  cases  of  Lord  Melville  and  the 
Duke  of  York  promised  to  secure  extensive  reforms,  inquiry  into 
in  regard  both  to  national  office  and  property.  In  the  abuses- 
public  arrears  of  the  Admiralty  Board,  11,600,000/.  were  unac- 
counted for  in  March  of  this  year.  In  St.  Domingo,  there  had 
been,  within  four  years,  an  expenditure  of  7,700,000/.,  as  yet 
unaccounted  for ; and  the  Commission  of  Inquiry,  which  cost 
the  nation  13,000/.  a year,  had  as  yet  exhibited  no  result  of  its 
exertions.  The  several  Commissioners  delivered  their  Reports  ; 
but  it  did  not  appear  that  they  had  laid  hold  of  the  peculators. 
Great  exposures  on  this  subject  were  made  in  the  Commons,  in 
the  debate  of  the  21st  of  March.2  On  the  27th,  the  Chancellor 
of  the  Exchequer  moved  for  leave  to  bring  in  a bill  to  prevent 
the  sale  and  brokerage  of  offices.  He  declared  this  measure  to 
be  a consequence  of  the  disclosures  made  in  the  course  of  the 
late  inquiry  about  the  Duke  of  York.  His  information  deter- 
mined the  House  to  inquire,  by  means  of  a Committee,  into  the 
management  of  East  India  patronage ; and  the  abuses  in  the 
sale  of  writerships  and  cadetships  were  found  to  be  so  enormous, 
that  a sweep  was  made  among  the  appointments  of  late  years, 
and  a considerable  number  of  young  men  were  recalled  from 
India,  amidst  the  compassion  of  society,  which  did  not  attribute 
to  them  the  corruption  which  had  first  opened  fair  prospects 
before  them,  and  now  blasted  all  their  hopes.  Out  of  this 
matter,  again,  arose  the  discovery  that  Lord  Castlereagh  had 
1 Life,  ii.  pp.  71,  7*2.  2 Hansard,  xiii.  p.  745. 


282 


MISCONDUCT  OF  MINISTERS. 


[Book  II. 


been  dabbling  in  the  dirt  of  this  market.  ITe  had  been  barter- 
ing an  Indian  writership  for  a seat  in  parliament  for  his  friend 
Lord  Clancarty,  — thus  abusing  at  once  East  India  patronage 
and  the  integrity  of  parliament.  The  charge  was  brought  for- 
ward by  Lord  A.  Hamilton,  on  the  25th  of  April.1  Lord 
Castlereagh  admitted  the  facts,  and  acknowledged  the  offence ; 
but  he  pleaded  harmlessness  of  intention,  and  also  of  result,  for 
the  bargain  was  accidentally  broken  off.  In  consideration  of 
this  (which  was  surely  no  good  reason)  and  of  the  frankness 
and  humility  with  which  the  accused  acknowledged  his  offence, 
he  and  his  abettors  were  let  off  with  the  dishonor  and  disgrace. 
The  House,2  “ considering  all  the  circumstances  of  the  case, 
and  that  the  intention  referred  to  in  the  evidence  was  never 
carried  into  effect,  does  not  think  it  necessary,”  says  the  Resolu- 
tion, “ to  come  to  a criminating  Resolution  on  the  same.”  Again, 
on  the  5th  of  May,  there  was  a new  charge  against  Lord 
Castlereagh,  in  which  Mr.  Perceval  was  included;  and  on  the 
11th  it  was  debated.  The  charge  was  that  these  two  Ministers 
had  procured  by  purchase  a seat  in  parliament  for  Mr.  Quintin 
Dick,3  and  had  afterwards  endeavored  to  influence  his  vote  in 
the  Duke  of  York's  business.  About  the  purchase  of  the  seat 
it  would  have  been  hypocrisy  in  those  days  to  pretend  to  be 
ashamed ; but  it  was  heinous  misconduct  to  attempt  to  influence 
votes,  and  to  dismiss  their  nominee  for  his  independent  judgment, 
after  these  very  Ministers  had  declared  that  the  inquiry  into  the 
Duke  of  York’s  business  was  purely  judicial.  The  Ministers 
were,  however,  so  strongly  supported  by  the  Grenville  party,  in 
their  dread  of  the  question  of  Parliamentary  Reform,  and  of 
exposure  of  similar  acts  in  the  days  of  former  adm  nistrations, 
that  the  minority  was  very  small  — only  85  to  810.  Romilly’s 
remark  upon  it  was,4  “ The  decision  of  this  night,  coupled  with 
some  that  have  lately  taken  place,  will  do  more  towards  dispos- 
ing the  nat  on  in  favor  of  a Parliamentary  Reform,  than  all  the 
speeches  that  have  been,  or  will  be,  made  in  any  popular  assem- 
blies.” The  “ conscientious  Perceval  ” was,  at  the  very  time 
of  using  this  intimidation  on  a judicial  question,  spending  hours 
and  thought,  and  pen  and  ink,  on  preventing  the  members  of 
parliament  from  being  tempted  to  travel  on  a Sunday  — as  if 
he  had  been  put  in  charge  of  their  private  consciences  while  he 
was  tampering  with  a political  one.  He  had  fixed  the  opening 
of  the  Session  for  a Monday  ; Wilberforce  remonstrated,  feeling 
it  unsafe  to  trust  the  members  to  come  up  on  Saturday.  Per- 
ceval explained  and  regretted  at  some  length  ; 6 and  at  last 
changed  the  day  to  Thursday.  “ The  House  put  off  nobly  by 

1 Hansard,  xiv.  pp.  218-224.  2 Ibid.  p.  254.  8 Ibid.  p.  486. 

4 Memoirs,  ii.  p.  281.  5 Life  of  Wilberforce,  iii.  p.  397. 


Chap.  II.]  CASTLEREAGH  AND  CANNING. 


283 


Perceval,”  writes  Wilberforcet.  So  much  for  the  camels  and 
gnats  of  that  time  ! 

It  was  during  these  proceedings  that  silence  was  enforced 
upon  Mr.  Canning  by  his  chef  and  other  colleagues,  QUarrei  be- 
on  the  plea  of  Lord  Castlereagh’s  adversities  in  ^eenLord 
parliament ; and  then,  as  has  been  told,  succeeded  the  and  Mr.  ° 
plea  of  the  Walcheren  expedition.  Upon  Canning,  Cannlns- 
too,  was  laid  the  task  of  saying  what  could  be  said  in  excuse  for 

the  sinning  minister  under  the  accusations  of  the  House.  His 

position  was  so  hard  that  on  the  last  day  of  May  he  told  his 
story  to  the  King  himself,  thinking  that  the  failing  Duke  of 
Portland  might  not  have  made  all  clear  to  the  royal  mind. 

But  the  King  laid  his  commands  upon  him  not  to  resign  at 

present.  u The  sine  qvd  non  with  Canning,” 1 the  Premier 
wrote  to  the  Chancellor,  (who  could  not  endure  Canning,  but 
understood  how  indispensable  he  was  to  the  Administration,)  “ is 
to  take  from  Lord  Castlereagh  the  conduct  of  the  war.”  Before 
the  end  of  June,  the  Premier  disclosed  to  Mr.  Canning  that 
changes  were  to  be  made  in  the  War  Office ; and  then,  for  the 
first  time,  Mr.  Canning  was  informed  that  the  whole  matter  had 
been  concealed  from  Lord  Castlereagh.  During  the  whole  of 
July,  he  was  put  off  with  assurances  that  new  arrangements 
were  making,  and  that  Lord  Castlereagh’s  mind  was  in  course 
of  preparation  for  the  change.  When  he  pressed  for  precision  as 
to  dates,2  he  was  told  that  in  six  weeks,  when  the  issue  of  the 
Walcheren  expedition  should  be  known,  he  should  either  be 
satisfied  or  permitted  to  resign.  At  the  appointed  time  he  was 
urgent.  The  event  of  Walcheren  was  known  on  the  2d  of 
September.  On  the  3d,  he  wrote  to  the  Premier  at  his  country- 
seat,  and  learned  on  the  6th,  that  no  arrangement  had  been  even 
considered  ; 8 that  Lord  Castlereagh  was,  at  that  hour,  ignorant 
of  all  that  had  been  thought  in  regard  to  him  for  the  last  half 
year ; and  that  if  he,  Canning,  should  persist  in  his  resolution 
to  resign,  he  must  be  responsible  for  the  dissolution  of  the 
Ministry.  No  alternative  was  left,  after  such  usage  as  this. 
Mr.  Canning  intimated  that  he  should  attend  no  more  Cabinet 
councils,  and  should  discharge  the  duties  of  his  office  only  till 
his  successor  should  be  appointed. 

Now,  at  last,  Lord  Castlereagh  was  informed  of  that  which 
it  so  much  concerned  him  to  know.  He  immediately  resigned. 
At  the  moment  when  his  great  Walcheren  scheme  had  lapsed 
into  humiliation  and  disgrace,  he  discovered  that  his  colleagues 
had  for  many  months  been  agreed  upon  his  incapacity,  at  the  in- 
stigation (as  he  conceived  the  matter)  of  Canning.  He  was  never 

1 Life  of  Lord  Eldon,  ii.  p.  80. 

2 Statement,  Annual  Register,  1809,  p.  583.  8 Ibid.  p.  584. 


284 


A DUEL  AND  ITS  RESULTS. 


[Book  II. 


clear-headed  ; and  the  tumult  of  feelings  into  which  he  was  now 
plunged  was  not  likely  to  make  him  more  logical  than  usual. 
He  wrote  a long  letter  to  his  adversary ; 1 a letter  abounding  in 
mistakes  of  fact  and  false  reasoning,  and  ending  in  a challenge. 
It  would  have  been  too  absurd,  even  to  his  confused  and  narrow 
understanding,  to  challenge  a man  for  thinking  meanly  of  his 
abilities.  He  expressly  declared  that  this  was  not  his  ground  of 
complaint ; but  that  Mr.  Canning’s  justifiable  demand  was  un- 
justifiably “ executed.”  Mr.  Canning  might  have  declined 
fighting  on  the  ground  that  he  was  not  concerned  in  the  “ ex- 
ecution ” of  his  own  demand,  and  had,  in  fact,  as  much  reason 
as  anybody  to  complain  of  it;  but  Canning  was  a man  of  the 
world,  and  had  the  moral  weaknesses  of  that  character.  He  de- 
clared 2 that  Lord  Castlereagh  was  mistaken  in  his  whole  view ; 
but  he  did  not  explain  how  or  where  ; and  he  went  out  to  fight 
as  illogically  as  his  challenger.  The  duel  took  place 
Their  duel.  Qn  ^ 2ist  0f  September,  within  sight  of  the  windows 
of  Pitt’s  death-chamber.  They  fired  twice ; and  at  the  second 
discharge,  Mr.  Canning  was  wounded  in  the  thigh.  He  was 
able,  however,  to  attend  the  levee  on  the  11th  of  October,  to 
resign  the  seals.  His  friend  Huskisson  went  out  with  him. 

It  had  been  evident  to  the  King  in  August  that  the  Duke  of 
Changes  in  Portland  must  retire  ; 3 and  the  Chancellor  was  called 
the  Cabinet.  jnto  consultation  about  it.  Not  the  less  angry  was  Lord 
Eldon  now  with  Canning,  whom  he  accused  of  breaking  up  the 
repose  of  the  government  — of  the  government  which  had  this 
year  sunk  to  the  lowest  point  of  popular  contempt.  Now  was 
the  time  for  the  Duke  of  Portland  to  retire.  He  did  so,  and 
died  on  the  29  th  of  October. 

The  duel  and  its  antecedents  were  sad  and  shameful  enough 
from  every  point  of  view  ; but  perhaps  the  worst  results  were 
those  which  manifested  themselves  in  the  temper  of  Canning, 
and  the  political  career  of  both,  for  the  next  few  years.  Lord 
Castlereagh  had  so  little  mind,  so  amiable  a temper,  so  super- 
ficial a sensibility,  such  accommodating  manners,  and,  furthermore, 
the  command  of  so  many  votes  in  parliament,  that  his  mortifica- 
tions were  soon  got  rid  of,  by  himself  and  the  leaders  of  his  party  ; 
and  his  country  had  the  misfortune  to  be  served  by  him  for  a long 
course  of  years  after  his  exclusion  from  power  forever  seemed 
decided.  Mr.  Canning  had  done  nothing  which  need  even  delay 
his  return  to  office  ; and  no  man  was  so  urgently  needed  — so  in- 
dispensable, as  almost  everybody  but  Lord  Eldon  said  at  the 
time.  But  his  temper  was  not  softened  or  sweetened  by  what 
had  happened  ; and  he  was  now  to  show  himself  more  haughty 

1 Statement,  Annual  Register,  1809,  p.  562.  2 Ibid.  p.  563. 

8 Life  of  Lord  Eldon,  ii.  p.  78. 


Chap.  II.]  NEGOTIATION.  — FOUR  PARTIES. 


285 


and  irascible  than  ever  before,  while  out  of  his  right  place,  and 
unable  to  settle  down  in  any  other.  He  had  u fluttered  the 
Voices,”  and  now  he  must  go  through  a period  of  banishment, 
and  bear  it  as  he  might.  He  had  been  injured  ; and  he  was 
angry;  and  the  portion  of  his  life  now  to  come  was  far  from 
being  the  happiest. 

The  Marquess  Wellesley  was  at  this  time  in  Spain  as  our 
ambassador.  He  was  doing  good  service  in  exposing  to  the  Eng- 
lish understanding  the  untrustworthiness  of  the  Spaniards,  and 
the  weakness  of  their  cause ; but  he  was  now  wanted  at  home. 
Indeed,  any  man  of  ability  was  so  precious  in  those  days  of 
Ministerial  incapacity,  that  the  difficulty  was  to  decide  where  to 
put  him,  while  every  office  was  in  pressing  need  of  him.  The 
Ministry  had  been  ignominious  in  its  coming  in,  and  in  its 
conduct ; and  now,  the  ignominy  of  its  going  out  deprived  its 
leaders  of  Canning  — their  only  able  man  at  home.  They 
sent  at  once  for  his  friend  Wellesley  from  Spain,  appointing 
Henry  Wellesley  (afterwards  Lord  Cowley)  to  take  his  place 
as  ambassador.  This  done,  the  time  till  Lord  Wellesley  could 
return  must  be  employed  in  negotiation.  The  parties  seem  to 
have  been  these.  First,  the  remaining  Ministers,  who  still 
called  themselves  the  Pittites.  Next,  the  friends  and  constant 
allies,  Lord  Wellesley  and  Canning.  Thirdly,  the  Addington 
group.  Fourthly,  the  Grenville  set.  It  was  thought  possible 
by  Mr.  Perceval,  who  was  really  amiable  in  his  personal 
transactions,  that  Lord  Wellesley,  on  his  return,  might  accom- 
plish Canning’s  resumption  of  office.  One  difficulty  in  the  way 
was,  that  neither  Perceval  nor  Canning  could  take  the  lead  in 
the  Commons,1  so  as  to  compel  the  other  to  be  his  subordinate. 
Though  it  was  desirable,  on  the  whole,  that  the  Premier  should 
be  in  the  Lower  House,  it  might  be  arranged  otherwise,  so  that 
the  two  men  might  remain  on  an  equality  before  parliament. 
Canning  would  have  liked  that  Perceval  should  be  removed  to 
the  other  House,  by  the  gift  of  a peerage  ; but  Perceval  declared 
that  this  would  be  “ clapping  an  extinguisher  upon  him  in  the 
shape  of  a coronet ; ” and  besides,  he  had  not  fortune  to  support 
new  rank.  So  Canning  was  left  till  Lord  Wellesley  should 
return  ; and  the  first  application  was  made  to  Lords  Grenville 
and  Grey.  It  was  so  manifestly  out  of  the  question  The  Gren- 
that  they  should  take  office,  on  account  of  the  Cath-  vilie  party 
olic  question,  that  Lord  Grey  did  not  think  it  worth  while  to 
come  to  town  from  Northumberland.  Lord  Grenville,  who 
was  in  Cornwall,  thought  it  more  respectful  to  the  King  to  come 
to  town  ; but  did  not  for  a moment  admit  the  possibility  of 
taking  office.  Their  friends  thought  the  application  was  merely 
1 Ward’s  Memoirs,  i.  p.  208. 


286  THE  NEW  ADMINISTRATION.  [Book  II. 

for  the  purpose  of  gaining  time  for  Lord  Wellesley’s  answer  to 
come. 

There  remained  the  Sidmouth  party.  Lord  Sidmouth’s  sensi- 
The  Adding-  tive  vanity  was  sorely  wounded  by  the  awkwardness 
ton  party.  with  which  this  negotiation  was  begun.  Mr.  Perce- 
val’s want  of  tact  in  a former  address  to  Lord  Melville  was 
hardly  greater  than  he  now  manifested  in  his  dealings  with 
Lord  Sidmouth.  First,  he  sent  the  marplot,  Lord  Chatham,  on 
the  5th  of  October,  to  propose  to  Lord  Sidmouth  employments 
for  his  party,  without  any  mention  of  his  lordship  himself.  This 
extraordinary  method  of  negotiation  was  explained  by  Mr.  Per- 
ceval in  a letter  no  less  extraordinary.  He  hinted  that  some 
friends  of  his,  at  present  indispensable,  would  not  hear  of  Lord 
Sidmouth  being  in  the  government;  but  that  the  objection  might 
hereafter  give  way,  if  the  Addington  coterie  should  render  good 
service  meanwhile.1  The  letter,  Lord  Sidmouth  said,  amounted 
“ in  substance  only  to  this : if  you  will  persuade  your  friends  to 
support  me,  I will  endeavor  to  persuade  mine  to  permit  you  to 
come  into  office  some  time  or  other.”  This  was  not  a winning 

o 

method  to  use  with  a vain  man  ; and  Mr.  Bathurst  and  Mr. 
Vansittart,  the  friends  sought,  refused  to  take  office  without  him. 

There  was  now  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  construct  an  Admin- 
istration out  of  the  old  materials,  strengthened  by  the  accession 
of  Lord  Wellesley,  if  he  should  come.  He  did  come  ; and  he 
succeeded  to  Canning’s  office,  of  Foreign  Secretary.  Mr.  Per- 
Mr  Perce-  ceval  was  Premier,  being  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer 

vai  Prime  as  well  as  First  Lord  of  the  Treasury.  Lord  Liver- 

Minister.  took  Lorcl  Castlereagh’s  place  at  the  War  Office, 

to  the  surprise  of  many  who  thought  that  the  ablest  man  was 
wanted  there ; and  his  place  at  the  Home  Office  was  filled  by  the 
Hon.  R.  Ryder.  The  other  offices  were  filled  as  before,  except 
that  Lord  Palmerston  became  Under-Secretary  at  War,  in  the 
place  of  Sir  James  Pulteney.  It  was  December  before  the  ar- 
rangements were  completed.  In  the  midst  of  them  the  contest 
for  the  Chancellorship  of  the  University  of  Oxford,  vacated  by 
the  death  of  the  Duke  of  Portland,  was  going  on,  — Lord  Gren- 
ville being  a candidate  against  Lord  Eldon  and  the  Duke  of 
Beaufort.  The  struggle  was  an  important  one,  considering  the 
pressure  of  the  Catholic  question  at  that  time.  The  opinion  en- 
tertained of  Lord  Grenville’s  soundness  as  a churchman  was 
shown  in  his  election  by  a majority  of  13  over  Lord  Eldon. 
The  King  indeed  remarked,  that  “ it  would  be  hard  if  Cambridge 
had  a Unitarian  Chancellor”2  (the  Duke  of  Grafton),  “and  Ox- 
ford a Popish  one  ; ” but  it  is  clear  that  the  most  zealous  body  of 
churchmen  in  the  kingdom  thought  Protestantism  safe  in  the 
1 Life,  iii.  p.  8.  2 Life  of  Lord  Eldon,  ii.  p.  110. 


Chap.  II.]  NAPOLEON’S  DIVORCE  AND  MARRIAGE.  287 


hands  of  Lord  Grenville.  The  Catholic  claims  were  not  at  that 
time  decided  to  be  a revolutionary  question. 

It  was  a melancholy  season  for  a Jubilee,  this  close  of  the 
year  1809  ; yet  a Jubilee  there  was,  on  the  entrance  The  Jubilee 
on  the  fiftieth  year  of  the  King’s  reign.  The  old  man 
himself  was  nearly  blind,  and  his  wits  were  wavering  ; he  was 
at  variance  with  his  heir ; his  favorite  son  was  just  disgraced ; 
and  he  was  in  displeasure  with  others  of  them.  The  “ Pittites  ” 
were  in  a state  of  collision  among  themselves ; and  the  govern- 
ment in  deep  discredit  at  home  and  abroad,  on  account  of  the 
Horse  Guards’  exposure  and  the  Walcheren  affair.  All  hopes 
from  Spain  were  dwindling  away  ; and  Napoleon  was,  at  present, 
in  the  very  insolence  of  his  power.1  It  was  noticed  that  Napo- 
leon no  longer  rendered  an  account  to  the  legislature,  as  one 
responsible  for  the  conduct  of  public  affairs  ; but  that  he  offered 
a narrative  — a history  vouchsafed  by  himself  to  them  of  what 
he  had  thought  proper  to  do  and  decree.  It  was  pointed  out  that 
he  now  spoke  of  “ my  empire,”  instead  of  “ the  empire  ; ” and 
that,  in  every  direction,  he  had  given  up  all  pretence  of  being  a 
popular  ruler.  Holding  the  Pope  in  imprisonment  at  Avignon, 
and  having  made  four  kings  and  a viceroy  of  his  nearest  relations, 
he  was  at  this  time  meditating  another  step,  to  accomplish  which 
he  summoned  his  family  to  a grand  meeting,  the  purpose  of  which 
was  painfully  suspected  by  his  unhappy  wife.  Napo-  Napoieon-s 
leon  represented  to  his  family  the  necessity  of  provid-  divorce, 
ing  an  heir  to  his  throne.  He  caused  them  to  see  that  it  would 
be  mere  obedience  to  the  Providence  which  had  enthroned 
him  ; and  they  immediately  discovered  a secret  article  in  the 
Treaty  of  Vienna,  which  favored  his  wishes.  When  Josephine 
hastened  to  meet  her  husband,  after  the  battle  of  Wagram,  she 
saw  that  something  was  wrong ; 2 and  when,  after  dinner  one  day, 
he  took  courage  to  tell  her  that  he  must,  however  unwillingly, 
divorce  her,  she  had  to  be  carried,  by  himself  and  the  physician, 
in  convulsions,  and  by  a back  staircase,  to  her  apartments. 
But  before  the  family  council,  she  commanded  herself,  and 
agreed,  though  with  a faltering  voice,  to  the  divorce.  The  Senate 
dissolved  the  marriage  immediately,  appointing  to  Josephine  an 
income  of  80,000/.  a year,  and  the  title  of  Empress.  The  Empe- 
ror of  Austria  lost  his  hold  on  the  sympathies  of  Europe  by  ea- 
gerly giving  his  daughter  to  Napoleon  ; and  so  quickly  ins  new 
were  affairs  managed  that,  within  four  months  of  poor  marriase- 
Josephine’s  first  alarm,  the  new  wife  was  receiving  the  homage 
of  Prance  in  the  Tuileries.  Thus  was  France  apparently 
towering  above  the  nations,  while  Spain  was  crumbling  down 

1 Annual  Register,  1809,  p.  242. 

2 Alison’s  History  of  Europe,  vii.  p.  784. 


288 


GLOOM  AND  THE  JUBILEE. 


[Book  II. 


beneath  their  feet.  It  is  true  that  all  was  not  what  it  seemed : 
it  is  true  that  Napoleon’s  aggressions  on  Spain  were  destined  to 
bring  on  a fatal  retribution  ; and  that  this  Austrian  alliance 
aroused  the  jealousy  of  Russia,  which  had  coquetted  with  him, 
and  afterwards  indulged  the  vindictiveness  of  a deserted  co- 
quette : it  is  true  that  the  new  marriage  was,  as  Napoleon  him- 
self said,  “ a pit  covered  with  flowers.”  But  nobody  knew  these 
Gloom  things  at  the  time.  No  hollowness  was  apparent 
abroad  and  when,  in  the  autumn  of  this  year,  the  summons  went 
at  home.  0ut  for  council,  and  Austria  was  making 

ready  to  go  over  to  the  conqueror  ; and  the  English  people  were 
invited  to  hold  a jubilee,  in  which  there  could  be  little  mirth. 
The  cries  for  Reform,  and  what  the  King  took  for  revolution, 
had  become  so  vehement  throughout  England,  that  the  Court 
was  almost  as  much  concerned  as  the  enlightened  liberals  to  see 
how  little  fit  the  Opposition  leaders  were  to  cope  with  the  times. 
While  the  government  had  been  trying  (thanks  to  Romilly,  in 
vain) 1 to  make  their  Sedition  Bills  more  stringent,  the  Opposition 
leaders  were  showing  themselves  undecided,  backward,  indistinct 
in  their  views,  isolated  in  their  conduct : 2 fit  neither  to  cope 
with  the  rash  bigots  on  the  government  benches,  nor  with  the 
railing  malcontents  out  of  doors.  In  the  midst  of  the  depression 
abroad,  and  the  quarrels  at  home,  in  defiance  of  the  gloom  which 
was  settling  down  upon  the  world,  the  Jubilee  was  to  be  held, 
and  men  were  to  be  joyful  and  loyal  on  the  25th  of  October,  at 
least,  whatever  had  gone  before  or  should  come  after. 

The  Jubilee  was  held,  and  with  much  real  fervor  of  loyalty. 
The  fiftieth  Sir  Samuel  Romilly  foresaw  that  it  would  puzzle  pos- 
yearofthe  terity  to  account  for  the  unquestionable  popularity  of 
reign.  the  King  at  this  time  ; 3 but  the  causes  may  still  be 

understood  and  appreciated.  Whatever  was  happening  abroad, 
we  were  still  safe  within  our  own  islands,  with  a throne  in  the 
midst ; and  the  phrase  about  44  rallying  round  the  throne  ” was 
then  neither  hackneyed  nor  absurd,  — the  long  war  appearing  to 
have  sprung  directly  from  the  great  revolution  abroad,  which  had 
played  such  tricks  with  thrones.  The  aged  King,  nearly  blind, 
and  now  sinking,  now  rising,  in  mental  health,  saved  us  from  the 
regency  of  a Prince  whom  nobody  loved,  and  whose  vices  the 
best  people  feared.  The  King’s  family  troubles  and  personal 
sufferings  secured  to  him  the  respectful  sympathy  of  all  but  the 
heartless.  Last  and  least,  it  was  agreeable  to  be  summoned  to 
any  public  rejoicing  in  such  times  ; and  the  whole  nation  seemed 
to  feel  it  so. 

At  Windsor  and  Frogmore,  the  royal  residences,  the  display 

1 Memoirs,  ii.  p.  283.  2 Memoirs  of  Horner,  i.  p.  462- 

a Memoirs,  ii  p.  299. 


PUBLIC  CELEBRATION. 


Chap.  II. J 


289 


was,  of  course,  the  most  imposing.1  From  the  first  blast  of  the 
trumpets  at  six  in  the  morning,  to  the  last  of  the  Celebration 
fireworks  at  midnight,  all  was  show  and  festivity. 

The  royal  family  attended  service  in  the  Chapel,  and  the  Princes 
and  Princesses  offered  their  tributes  of  honor  to  “ a reign  sacred 
to  piety  and  virtue.”  All  the  church  bells  in  the  kingdom  were 
ringing ; all  the  streets  were  gay  with  processions  during  the  day, 
and  shining  with  illumination  at  night.  Everybody  sang  “ God 
save  the  King  ” and  “ Rule  Britannia  ; ” and  all  corporations 
feasted.  The  poor  feasted  too  ; and  all  deserters  from  army  and 
navy  were  pardoned;  and  the  bulk  of  society  was,  no  doubt,  the 
better  for  that  day.  They  knew  that  there  were  grand  doings 
in  the  far  corners  of  the  earth,  by  appointment,  in  sympathy  with 
home : meetings  in  Canada,  balls  at  Bombay  and  Calcutta,  and 
some  remission  of  toil,  some  faint  revival  of  the  sensation  of  cit- 
izenship, in  the  convicts  at  Botany  Bay.  It  was  something  to 
know  this.  It  was  something  that  the  Park  and  Tower  guns 
should  fire  for  something  else  than  bloodshed.  The  national 
heart  needed  a holiday ; and  this  was  an  innocent  and  natural 
occasion.  Those  who  could  not  admire  the  old  King  could  wish 
him  well.  Those  who  could  not  praise  his  reign  could  respect 
his  length  of  days.  Those  who  would  not  have  originated  rejoic- 
ings at  such  a time  fell  in  with  the  geniality  of  others,  without 
too  curiously  asking  why.  The  Jubilee  went  off  well  ; and  those 
who  were  most  proud  of  it  were  most  eager  to  point  out  how 
unlikely  it  was  that  there  should  ever  be  another. 

1 Annual  Register,  1809.  Chron.  395-399. 


VOL.  I. 


19 


290 


BURNING  OF  THEATRES. 


[Book  II. 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  close  of  1809  was  marked  by  two  trials  in  Westminster 
Hall  which  tested  the  quality  of  English  Jury  trials,  and  which 
were  therefore  watched  with  an  interest  which  bore  no  propor- 
tion to  the  importance  of  their  subjects.  One  was  a prosecution 
of  Mrs.  Clarke  and  two  tradesmen,  by  Colonel  Wardle,  for  per- 
jury. A mob  filled  Westminster  Hall,1  and  disturbed  the  pro- 
ceedings by  their  shouts  in  favor  of  Colonel  Wardle,  the  popular 
idol  of  the  day.  Lord  Ellenborough,  Chief  Justice,  was  the 
judge.  The  honest  jury  returned  a verdict  of  Not  Guilty. 

The  other  trial  arose  out  of  some  late  riots  in  Co  vent  Garden 
o.  p.  ques-  theatre.  It  appears  strange  now  that,  at  such  a time,  a 
tion*  time  when  the  liberties  of  the  world  were  in  jeopardy, 

and  when  adversity  was  besetting  our  own  country  on  every  side, 
men  could  feel  interest  enough  about  theatre  prices  to  make  a riot. 
But,  from  whatever  cause,  whether  from  dulness  under  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  war,  or  from  the  excitement  of  a quarrelsome 
temper,  which  is  one  of  the  consequences  of  war,  or  from  a sin- 
cere conviction  that  the  principle  of  fair  play  was  in  question,  it 
so  happened  that  the  O.  P.  riots  of  1809  were  a very  serious 
matter  indeed. 

On  the  morning  of  the  20th  of  September,  1808,  at  four  o’clock, 
Co  vent  Garden  theatre  was  perceived  to  be  on  fire. 
fheTheftres.  ^ was  in  eveiT  waJ  a most  disastrous  fire.  That  the 
theatre  was  destroyed  was  by  no  means  the  worst  part 
of  it.  Seven  houses  near  were  totally  demolished  ; and  many 
more  rendered  uninhabitable.  Several  dramatic  works,  of  which 
no  copies  existed  outside  the  theatre,  and,  worse  still,  much  music 
of  Handel,  Arne,  and  other  composers,  of  which  likewise  there 
were  no  duplicates,  were  lost.  By  the  fall  of  a burning  roof,2 
eleven  men  were  killed  at  once,  and  others  fatally  injured.  It  is 
curious  now  to  read  the  record  of  the  anxiety  that  was  felt  about 
Drury  Lane  theatre,  from  the  flakes  of  fire  that  were  blown  upon 
its  roof ; and  how  men  got  upon  the  roof,  and  opened  the  cistern, 
and  kept  such  watch  as  to  save  the  second  theatre.  The  cause 
of  the  fire  was  supposed  to  be  the  lodgment  among  the  scenes  of 

1 Memoirs  of  Horner,  ii.  p.  8.  2 Annual  Register,  1808.  Chron.  106. 


Chap.  III.] 


O.  P.  RIOTS 


291 


the  wadding  of  a pistol,  fired  by  the  hero  of  the  favorite  dra- 
matic piece  of  the  day  — Pizarro,  which  was  adapted  for  the 
English  stage  by  Mr.  Sheridan,  the  principal  proprietor  of  Drury 
Lane  theatre. 

On  the  night  of  the  24th  of  February  next,  when  the  Com- 
mons were  discussing  the  conduct  of  the  war  in  Spain,  and  Mr 
Sheridan  was  listening,  while  waiting  to  speak,  the  House  was 
filled  with  a glare  of  light  so  extraordinary  that  cries  of  “ Fire  ! 
Fire  ! ” 1 interrupted  the  concluding  part  of  Mr.  Canning’s  speech. 
Drury  Lane  theatre  was  on  fire  ; and  it  was  Mr.  Sheridan  who 
informed  the  Ministers,  in  a low  tone  across  the  table,  that  it  was 
so.  The  sympathy  for  him  was  so  strong  that  the  adjournment 
of  the  debate  was  demanded  by  several  members ; but  Mr. 
Sheridan  calmly  said  that  “ whatever  might  be  the  extent  of  the 
individual  calamity,  he  did  not  consider  it  of  a nature  worthy  to 
interrupt  their  proceedings  on  so  great  a national  question.”  He 
left  the  House,  accompanied  by  all  good  wishes.  But  he  knew 
that  the  ruin  was  desperate.  The  destroyed  theatre  had  been 
deep  in  debt  before.  It  was  looked  upon  as  a new  theatre,  be- 
cause it  was  the  successor  of  one  burned  down  in  1793.  The 
architect  had  exceeded  his  estimate  so  enormously  that  the  debts 
seemed  hopeless  before  ; 2 and  now,  the  building  was  burned  down 
before  its  erection  was  paid  for.  From  the  false  estimates  of 
architects  arose  the  subsequent  mischiefs  connected  with  the  the- 
atres ; and  among  others,  the  O.  P.  riots  of  1809. 

The  expense  of  rebuilding  Covent  Garden  turned  out  to  be  so 
heavy,  that  the  proprietors  raised  the  prices  of  admission.  The 
public  were  not  disposed  to  allow  this  ; and  they  alleged  that 
advantage  was  taken  of  Drury  Lane  theatre  being  in  ruins  to  fix 
a monopoly  price  on  a public  amusement.  A separate  cause  of 
complaint  was  the  erection  of  28  private  boxes,  by  which  the 
area  for  the  public  was  much  contracted,  and  facilities  were  sup- 
posed to  be  afforded  for  corrupting  the  morals  of  the  frequenters 
of  the  theatre.  A vigorous  opposition  was  prepared  for  the  first 
night,  the  17th  of  September.  On  the  steps,  a mob  was  vocif- 
erating lor  the  Old  Prices,  long  before  the  doors  were  opened. 
The  emotion  of  surprise. at  the  beauty  of  the  structure  and  its 
decorations  caused  silence  at  first;  but  when  Mr.  Kemble  ap- 
peared to  speak  the  opening  address,  the  uproar  began.  0 p riofcg 
For  three  months  afterwards  it  continued  throughout 
the  performances.  The  people  in  the  pit  turned  their  backs 
upon  the  actors ; and  the  din  of  cries,  stamping,  horns,  trumpets, 
dustmen’s  bells,  and  watchmen’s  rattles,  was  insufferable.  When 
the  cry  of  O.  P.  could  no  longer  be  heard,  the  letters  were  stuck 
upon  hats  and  placards  ; and  at  length,  there  was  fighting  — seri- 
1 Hansard,  xii.  p.  1105.  2 Life  of  Sheridan,  ii.  p.  367. 


292 


OPENING  OF  THE  SESSION. 


[Book  II. 


ous  boxing  between  the  police  and  the  audience,  and  between 
rival  partisans,  and  tearing  up  of  benches,  and  breaking  of  chan- 
deliers. A sort  of  troubled  pause  ensued  when  the  combatants 
became  weary  ; and  it  was  hoped  that  the  mischief  was  over, 
when  an  incident  occurred,  out  of  which  grew  the  trial  in  West- 
minster Hall.  Mr.  Clifford,  a barrister,  appeared  one  night  in 
the  pit  with  the  letters  O.  P.  in  the  front  of  his  hat.  Way  was 
made  for  him  to  the  centre,  amidst  cries  of  “ way  for  the 
honest  counsellor.”  The  box-keeper,  Mr.  Brandon,  caused  Mr. 
Clifford  to  be  arrested,  and  carried  before  the  Bow  Street  magis- 
trate. The  magistrate  immediately  discharged  him.  Mr.  Clif- 
ford indicted  Brandon  for  an  assault  and  false  imprisonment. 
The  trial  took  place  before  Sir  James  Mansfield,  Chief  Justice 
of  the  Common  Pleas ; and  his  charge  to  the  jury  was  an  ex- 
press direction  to  acquit  Brandon.  The  jury,  however,  satisfied 
that  Mr.  Clifford’s  act  was  not  one  of  riot,  gave  their  verdict  in 
his  favor.  The  judge  expressed  strong  regret,  and  fears  that  evil 
consequences  would  ensue ; 1 but  the  crowd  in  the  neighboring 
streets  thought  otherwise ; and  they  hailed  the  verdict  with 
cheers  which  were  heard  as  far  as  human  voices  would  reach. 
The  managers  now  found  they  must  yield.  They  relinquished 
the  prosecution  of  other  parties  who  had  done  as  Mr.  Clifford 
did ; dismissed  Brandon  (who  was  soon  reinstated,  however)  and 
restored  the  old  prices.  A reconciliation  dinner,  with  Mr.  Clif- 
ford in  the  chair,  and  Mr.  Kemble  at  his  right  hand,  took  place 
on  the  4th  of  January ; and  the  toast  of  the  evening  was  the 
prosperity  of  both  parties ; the  gain  of  the  public  in  amusement, 
and  of  the  proprietors  in  emolument.  The  fears  of  the  Judge 
were  not  realized ; and  the  sober  opinion  of  the  country,  adverse 
to  the  rioters  on  both  sides,  was  with  the  jury  which  had  found  a 
verdict  against  the  Judge’s  charge. 

The  best  men  were  now  looking  forward  with  a dull  pain  of 
Opening  of  mind  to  the  opening  of  the  session.  They  knew  what 
the  session,  would  be  done  on  the  Court  side.  The  financiers  of 
the  Cabinet  would  talk  of  the  growing  prosperity ; of  how  well 
the  people  were  off,  notwithstanding  the  taxes  ; and  of  how  well 
trade  flourished,  in  spite  of  Napoleon’s  decrees,  and  our  own 
Orders  in  Council.  The  delinquents  in  the  Walcheren  expedi- 
tion would  be  screened  ; the  single  victory  in  Spain,  which  had 
borne  no  fruits  of  success,  would  be  paraded,  and  nothing  effec- 
tual would  be  proposed  for  the  prosecution  of  the  war.  On  the 
Opposition  side,  there  would  be  complaint,  exposure,  denuncia- 
tion, but  no  large  and  generous  scheme  of  reform,  and  no  united 
action.  And  it  turned  out  just  so.  The  government  must  have 
been  hard  pressed  for  topics  of  congratulation  when  they  put  into 
1 Memoirs  of  Homer,  ii.  p.  8. 


Chap.  Ill  ] 


THE  MINISTER’S  BUDGET. 


293 


the  King’s  mouth  felicitations  on  the  destruction  of  the  docks  and 
arsenals  at  Flushing,1  as  a result  of  the  Walcheren  expedition. 
Such  words,  uttered  at  a moment  when  our  soldiers  were  dying 
by  thousands,  and  our  money  had  been  spent  by  millions, 
were  too  impudent  (for  that  is  the  right  word)  for  endurance  ; 
and  the  amendments  moved  by  Lord  St.  Vincent  and  Lord  Gren- 
ville, on  the  discussion  of  the  Address,  were  strong  in  proportion. 
The  most  interesting  circumstance  to  us  now  in  the 
opening  of  this  session  is,  that  it  was  the  young  Mr.  r'  ee  * 
Peels  first  occasion  of  appearing  in  any  sort  of  connection  with 
the  government.  He  seconded  the  Address  in  the  Commons, 
enlarging  chiefly  on  the  necessity  of  unanimity  in  parliament,  as 
essential  to  due  resistance  to  Napoleon,  and  to  our  doing  our 
duty  by  those  who  were  struggling  against  his  usurpations.  One 
observation  strikes  the  eye  as  remarkable,  in  connection  with 
events  at  home  soon  to  happen  : “ With  regard  to  our  internal 
condition,”  he  said,2  “ while  France  had  been  stripped  of  the 
flower  of  her  youth,  England  had  continued  flourishing,  and  the 
only  alteration  had  been  the  substitution  of  machinery  for  man- 
ual labor.”  The  time  was  at  hand  which  should  afford  some  re- 
markable illustrations,  both  as  to  the  prosperity  and  the  machin- 
ery. It  took  many  long  years  to  illustrate  the  mind  and  character 
of  the  young  member  whose  “ animated  speech  ” now  interested 
the  House,  and  made  the  ministers  agree  that  they  had  made  an 
acquisition  in  young  Mr.  Robert  Peel.  Before  the  end  of  the 
year,  he  was  Under-Secretary  for  the  Colonies. 

Mr.  Perceval’s  statement  of  the  national  prosperity  was  offered 
in  an  exulting  mood.3  Great  public  works  — roads,  The  minis_ 
canals,  and  docks  — were  proceeding,  as  if  in  a time  ter’s  state- 
of  settled  peace  ; and  the  manufactures  and  commerce  ment’ 
of  the  country  were  still  rising,  while  Napoleon,  who  had  some 
time  since  wanted  only  ships,  colonies,  and  commerce,  had  lost 
the  colonies  and  commerce  of  France,  and  could  make  no  use  of 
his  remaining  ships,  which  were  pent  up  in  their  ports,  from  fear 
of  our  navy.  The  returns  from  the  property  tax,  which  had,  as 
regarded  trades  and  professions,  sunk  during  two  former  years, 
were  again  on  the  increase.  If  there  had  been  stagnation  in 
some  of  our  manufacturing  and  trading  districts,  from  our  position 
with  regard  to  America  as  well  as  the  continent,  new  channels 
were  opened,  and,  in  one  direction  or  another,  we  found  our 
industry  in  request.  This  was  true.  It  could  not  be  told  in 
parliament  what  new  channels  were  opened  ; but  it  was  known 
by  all  who  could  use  the  information,  that,  during  the  preceding 
year,  the  island  of  Heligoland,  in  the  Baltic,  had  been  fortified, 
and  made  a commercial  depot  for  the  purpose  of  smuggling  Brit- 
1 Hansard,  xv.  p.  1.  2 Ibid.  p.  43.  3 Ibid.  xvi.  pp.  1044-1057. 


294 


ADVERSITY.  — COMMERCIAL  CRASH.  [Book  II 


ish  goods  into  Denmark,  and  also  into  Germany  by  the  Elbe  and 
the  Weser.  In  this  year,  the  small  Danish  island  of  Anholt  in 
the  Categat  was  strengthened  and  employed  for  the  same  purpose. 
It  was  in  May  that  the  flourishing  statements  of  the  Chancellor 
of  the  Exchequer  were  made,  at  a moment  when  his  spirits  were 
raised  by  the  knowledge  that  the  American  Congress  was  then 
engaged  in  opening  our  trade  with  the  United  States.  He  over- 
looked, however,  some  portentous  facts  which  ought  to  have 
changed  the  whole  aspect  of  his  representations. 

The  great  public  works  spoken  of  by  Mr.  Perceval  were 
entered  upon  at  the  same  time  (many  of  them  in  1808)  with  the 
wild  speculations  ventured  upon  by  our  merchants  in  consequence 
of  the  expedition  to  Buenos  Ayres,  and  other  supposed  openings 
to  an  unlimited  commerce.  Waterloo  Bridge  and  Vauxhall 
Bridge  were  planned  and  subscribed  for  in  1808  ; and  the  great 
issue  of  paper  money  then,  and  for  some  time  after,  raised  both 
wages  and  prices,  and  caused  a false  exhilaration  and  a fictitious 
prosperity,  the  retribution  for  which  had  hardly  begun,  or  was 
not  apparent  to  government,  at  the  date  of  Mr.  Perceval’s  exhi- 
bition of  his  budget  in  1810.  There  had  been  a warning,  how- 
ever, at  the  close  of  1809,  such  as  would  have  changed 
Adversity.  ^ ^one  0f  a mini*ster  of  the  present  day.  The  heavy 
rains  in  the  autumn  had  so  far  impaired  the  prospect  of  the  har- 
vest as  that  in  December  the  average  for  wheat  had  reached 
1025.  6c?.  ; and  the  grain  imported  during  the  year  cost  nearly 
3,000,000?.  The  spring  of  1810  was  cold  and  wet ; large  impor- 
tations of  grain,  even  to  the  value  of  7,000,000?.  took  place  ; and 
the  price  of  wheat  was  rising  while  Mr.  Perceval  was  speaking ; 
and  in  August  it  had  reached  an  average  of  1 1 6s.  A period  of 
fine  weather  reduced  it  to  94s.  7c?.,  and  ruined  the  corn-dealers. 
Just  at  the  same  time,  the  British  commodities  in  the  Baltic  were 
confiscated,  ruining  many  merchants  ; and  the  accounts  came  in 
from  South  America,  exhibiting  such  desperate  losses  as  ruined 
many  more.  Within  a few  months  after  Mr.  Perceval’s  boastful 
declarations,  the  collapse  of  credit 1 was  more  tremendous  than 
had  ever  before  been  known  in  so  short  a space  of  time.  The 
crash  began  in  July,  with  the  failure  of  some  great  commercial 
houses.  In  August,  a London  bank  stopped  ; and  several  coun- 
try banks  were  brought  down  by  its  fall.  Wild  fluctuations  in 
Commercial  prices  followed  ; and  in  November  the  number  of  bank- 
crash.  ruptcies  in  England,  which  had  usually  been  under 

100,  had  risen  to  273,  “besides  stoppages  and  compositions,”  as 
the  Commercial  Report 2 declared,  “ equal  in  number  to  half  the 
traders  in  the  kingdom.”  Manufacturers  no  longer  trusted  the 
merchants,  nor  employed  the  operatives.  In  Manchester,  houses 
1 Tooke’s  Prices,  i.  p.  303.  2 For  December,  1810. 


Chap.  Ill  ] 


EFFORTS  AT  REFORMS. 


295 


were  stopping  “ not  only  every  day,  but  every  hour.”  The  com- 
missions of  bankruptcy  for  the  year  now  amounted  to  2311,  of 
which  26  were  against  bankers.  The  hunger  of  the  operative 
classes,  and  the  outcry  against  machinery  as  the  main  cause,  pre- 
pared the  events  of  the  succeeding  dark  years. 

There  was  some  foresight,  however,  among  the  more  clear- 
headed members  of  both  Houses  of  Parliament.1  Lord  Efforts  at 
Grey  delivered  a long  speech,  introducing  some  resolu-  reforms, 
tions,  called  by  the  sanguine  very  gloomy,  on  the  state  of  the 
nation  ; and  many  joined  him  in  the  demand  for  inquiry  into  the 
expenditure  of  government,  and  into  some  gross  abuses  and  cor- 
ruptions. A member  of  the  Commons,  Mr.  Joseph  Hunt,2  was 
expelled  the  House,  by  an  unanimous  vote,  for  having  drawn 
10,000/.  from  the  Bank  without  accounting  for  the  sum  ; and  the 
Embezzlement  Bill,  brought  in  by  Sir  John  Newport,  was  passed 
in  the  face  of  some  protests  from  government  officials,3  who  asked 
what  “ gentlemen  of  respectability  ” would  venture  upon  office, 
if  the  punishment  of  transportation  hung  over  them.  Motions 
for  retrenchment  met  with  less  favor,  Mr.  Perceval  seeing  “ not 
the  least  occasion  ” for  such  proposals,  after  the  government  had 
promised  to  conduct  the  national  affairs  in  an  economical  man- 
ner.4 A protest  against  sinecures  was  carried  in  opposition  to 
the  government ; but,  of  course,  it  could  not  immediately  become 
available  for  any  public  relief.  These  proceedings,  however, 
impelled  Mr.  Perceval  to  some  show  of  action  on  the  right  side. 
His  father,  while  First  Lord  of  the  Admiralty,  had  granted  to 
his  eldest  son,  and  in  reversion  to  Mr.  Perceval  himself,  the 
lucrative  office  of  Registrar  of  the  Admiralty  and  Prize  Courts. 
Mr.  Perceval  now  proposed  some  “ regulations  ” of  this  office, 
which,  however,  were  not  to  take  effect  till  after  his  tenure  of  it 
had  expired ; and  the  fees  contemplated  were  not  to  be  saved 
to  the  suitors,  but  in  part  paid  over  to  the  Consolidated  Fund.5 
Romilly  objected  to  such  an  abuse  ; but  his  objection  was  not 
even  noticed  ; and  when  he  further  observed  that  the  holder  of 
the  office  was  still  allowed  to  make  a profit  by  the  use  of  the 
suitors’  money  at  interest,  he  was  told  that  this  was  a practice 
allowed  in  other  offices,  and  not  objected  to  there.  Such  was 
the  way  in  which  the  public  business  was  conducted  in  those 
days  ! 

The  propositions  thus  made  by  liberal  members,  and  contested 
by  government,  however  good  as  far  as  they  went,  were  not  the 
large  and  generous  measures  of  reform  which  the  best  men,  in 
and  out  of  parliament,  wished  to  see  at  least  introduced,  and 


1 Hansard,  xvii.  pp.  533-574. 

3 Ibid.  xv.  p.  434. 

6 Memoirs  of  Romilly,  ii.  p.  336. 


2 Ibid.  p.  171. 

4 Ibid.  xvii.  p.  229. 


296 


BULLION  COMMITTEE.  — HORNER.  [Book  II. 


treated  as  worthy  of  discussion,  while  the  popular  uneasiness  and 
discontent  were  growing  from  day  to  day.  The  members  of 
the  government,  while  boasting  of  national  prosperity,  and  prob- 
ably sincere  in  their  boast,  regarded  such  discontent  as  so  much 
pure  vice,  and  called  it  Jacobinism.  We  find  one  of  them,  a 
member  of  the  Admiralty  Board,  complaining  1 that  “ the  coun- 
try gentlemen,  if  not  Jacobins,  are  at  least  reformers,  and  Uto- 
pian reformers  ; ” while  scarcely  any  of  the  public  men  of  the 
time  gave  “ the  smallest  weight  to  the  Jacobinical  spirit  which 
was  raging  unrepressed.”  “ There  is  scarcely  a paper,”  he  says, 
“ in  any  little  tradesman  or  laborer’s  hands  of  a Sunday  that  is 
not  big  with  sedition.” 

Meanwhile,  something  effectual  was  doing  in  a quiet  way. 
Bullion  While  “ Jacobins  ” were  muttering  or  railing,  and 
Committee,  small  improvements  were  talked  over  at  great  length 
in  parliament,  and  expositions  of  the  national  condition  were 
spread  abroad  in  the  newspapers,  a knot  of  thoughtful  men  — a 
philosopher  or  two,  some  experienced  merchants,  and  some  clear- 
headed politicians  — were  sitting  for  31  days  between  February 
and  June,  examining  29  witnesses,  and  consulting  on  the  evi- 
dence procured  about  the  monetary  condition  of  the  country,  and 
its  influence  upon  other  conditions.  This  was  the  year  of  the 
celebrated  Bullion  Committee.  At  the  head  of  the  philosophers 
Francis  concerned  was  Francis  Ilorner,  a lawyer  who  was  not 
Horner.  supposed  a likely  man  to  know  or  care  much  about 
currency  matters.  He  cared  much,  because  he  had  some  notion 
that  the  obscurity  and  unsettledness  of  the  national  fortunes  were 
connected  with  monetary  mismanagement ; and  as  for  knowing 
— he  had  the  great  advantage  of  being  aware  that,  as  yet,  he 
knew  nothing  of  the  practical  workings  of  the  relation  between 
the  Bank  and  the  nation.  He  came  to  the  inquiry  unprejudiced ; 
while  those  who  took  their  seats  with  minds  full  of  notions  knew 
in  reality  no  more  than  he,  as  was  presently  proved  to  themselves 
by  the  evidence  which  came  before  them.  “ Hitherto,”  2 wrote 
Ilorner  to  Lord  Grenville,  at  this  time,  “ I have  abstained  from 
forming  any  conclusion,  even  in  my  own  mind,  respecting  the 
causes  of  the  present  state  of  money  prices  ; nor  am  I sure 
that  I have  yet  gained  a clear  and  exact  notion  of  that  change, 
whether  depreciation  or  not,  of  which  the  cause  remains  to  be 
ascertained.”  In  this  “ suspense  of  opinion,”  he  moved,  on  the 
1st  of  February,  for  a variety  of  papers  respecting  the  existing 
state  of  the  circulating  medium  and  the  bullion  trade.  On  the 
19th  of  February,  his  Committee  was  appointed.  The  Chan- 
cellor of  the  Exchequer  was  a member  of  it,  of  course  ; and  we 
find  besides,  Mr.  Huskisson,  Sir  Henry  Parnell,  Mr.  Tierney, 
1 Ward’s  Memoirs,  i.  p.  254.  2 Memoirs,  ii,  p.  34. 


Chap.  Ill] 


THE  PAPER  CURRENCY. 


297 


and  Mr.  Abercromby ; Mr.  Baring,  the  merchant,  and  Mr. 
Thornton,  the  Bank  Director. 

The  conclusions  arrived  at  by  these  gentlemen  were  pro- 
nounced by  themselves,  in  their  private  correspondence,  very 
old ; but  they  were  as  unacceptable  to  the  government  and  to 
the  Bank  as  any  new  theory  could  have  been  ; so  that  we  even 
find  attempts  made,  a year  after,  to  sound  parliament  about  mak- 
ing bank-notes  a legal  tender,  in  order  to  avoid  the  necessity  of 
the  Bank  being  brought  back  to  cash  payments.  Mr.  Horner 
and  his  comrades  had,  however,  too  deeply  impressed  parliament 
and  the  nation  with  the  sense  and  knowledge  of  our  monetary 
system  being  at  that  time  essentially  vicious  to  allow  of  any  such 
fatal  mistake  being  made  ; and  if  their  compass  of  the  subject 
was  not  entire,  and  if  mischief  has  happened  again,  since  the  re- 
sumption of  cash  payments,  we  owe  it  to  them  that  we  have 
been  in  a condition  to  suffer  occasionally,  that  we  have  had  any- 
thing to  lose,  that  a national  bankruptcy  did  not  follow  within  a 
quarter  of  a century  of  the  financial  enterprises  and  expedients 
of  Mr.  Pitt.  44  The  several  successive  steps/’ 1 wrote  Horner  to 
Lord  Grenville  after  the  discussion  of  the  Report,  “ which  have 
been  observed  in  every  country  that  allowed  its  currency  to  fall 
into  a state  of  depreciation,  are  coming  upon  us  faster  than  was 
to  have  been  expected  in  this  country ; and,  as  there  will  be  no 
recovery  after  bank-notes  are  made  a legal  tender,  the  discus- 
sions which  precede  such  a measure  are  evidently  of  the  last  im- 
portance.” 

The  evils  attending  on  an  inconvertible  paper  currency  were 
indeed  coming  upon  the  country  faster  than  anybody  had  ex- 
pected. At  the  time  when  this  Committee  was  sitting,  a hundred 
pounds  of  paper  would  purchase  only  86/.  10s.  6c/.  of  gold.  The 
restriction  laid  on  the  Bank  by  government  in  1797,  forbidding 
it  to  make  its  payments  in  gold,  was  indisputably  necessary  at 
the  time ; and  the  continuance  of  the  restriction  through  several 
subsequent  years  was  excused  by  the  extraordinary  circumstance 
that  invasion  was  expected  from  year  to  year.  Now,  at  the  end 
of  thirteen  years  from  the  laying  on  of  the  restriction,  the  expec- 
tation of  invasion  had  become  a less  evil  than  the  operation  of 
an  inconvertible  paper  currency ; and  the  present  year  particu- 
larly was  so  threatening,  that  the  continuance  of  the  restriction 
began  to  be  freely  canvassed  elsewhere  than  in  the  Bullion  Com- 
mittee. Suddenly,  on  the  calamitous  fall  of  prices,  and  the  check 
to  speculation  now  occurring,  the  value  of  paper  money  sank 
from  a previous  steady  depreciation  of  21.  13s.  2d.  per  cent,  to 
that  of  13/.  9s.  6gZ.  per  cent.  The  number  of  country  banks  had 
been  280  when  the  restriction  was  laid  on ; and  now  it  was  more 
1 Memoirs,  ii.  p.  93. 


298 


REPORT  OF  BULLION  COMMITTEE.  [Book  II. 


than  doubled : affording  a prospect  of  perpetual  alternations  of 
floods  and  dearth  of  money  — of  exultation  and  panic  ; unless 
indeed  such  consequences  should  be  intercepted  by  a national 
bankruptcy.  Those  of  us  who  were  children  in  those  days  can 
never  forget  the  incessant  talk  by  the  fireside  about  a probable 
national  bankruptcy.  It  seemed,  by  the  gravity  of  parents’  faces, 
to  be  something  very  terrible  that  was  expected ; but  children 
could  not  help  thinking  that  there  would  be  something  very  amus- 
ing in  having  no  money,  and  everybody  being  brought  to  a state 
of  barter,  and  all,  except  land-owners,  having  to  begin  the  world 
again,  and  start  fair.  And  then,  there  were  speculations  all 
abroad  as  to  whether  government  would  allow  the  Bank  to  re- 
sume cash  payments ; and  whether  the  Bank  could  and  would 
pay  in  cash.  And  Cobbett,  then  in  the  full  flow  of  his  political 
writing,  announced  that  he  would  give  himself  up  to  be  broiled 
upon  a gridiron  whenever  the  Bank  should  resume  cash  pay- 
ments. Probably  many  hundreds  of  living  men  and  women  are 
conscious  to  this  day  of  some  association  between  a gridiron  and 
paper  and  gold  money  — so  familiar  as  they  once  were  with  the 
picture  of  Cobbett’s  gridiron  as  the  heading  of  his  Political  Reg- 
ister. 

The  Report  of  the  Bullion  Committee  was  not  in  the  hands 
of  members  till  the  middle  of  August,  on  account  of  the  number 
of  tables  contained  in  the  appendix ; but  enough  of  its  contents 
got  abroad,  to  afford  some  ground  of  hope  to  the  sufferers  under 
the  commercial  disasters  of  the  summer.1  Its  chief  recommen- 
dation was  to  repeal  the  Restriction  Act,  and  compel  the  Bank 
to  return  to  cash  payments,  at  the  desire  of  the  holder  of  notes, 
as  soon  as  a due  caution  would  permit.  The  circulation  of  notes 
of  any  kind  under  the  value  of  20s.  had  been  prohibited  in  1808  ; 
and  it  was  now  proposed  that  no  notes  under  the  value  of  51. 
should  be  permitted  to  circulate,  after  the  use  of  gold  and  silver 
coin  should  have  been  completely  reestablished.  Two  years 
were  thought  by  the  Committee  time  enough  to  prepare  the 
Bank,  and  the  public,  for  the  change  ; and  this  was  the  period 
recommended.  The  alarm  among  the  bankers  and  great  mer- 
chants, excited  by  this  recommendation,  was  such  as  sadly  to  in- 
crease the  mischiefs  of  the  existing  panic ; and,  as  we  shall  see, 
the  resumption  of  cash  payments  did  not  take  place  in  two  years. 
At  the  end  of  four  years,  there  were  many  who  would  have  been 
thankful  indeed  if  it  could  have  been  done  ; but  the  fluctuations, 
already  so  disastrous,  were  to  become  worse  yet,  till  one  should 
be  so  calamitous  as  to  compel,  and  render  comparatively  easy, 
a return  to  cash  payments  in  1819.  Whenever  such  a return 
should  be  attempted,  the  fearful  penalty  would  remain  of  our  hav- 
1 Hansard,  xvii.  App.  cclviii-cclxiii. 


Chap.  III.]  DEBATES  ON  CURRENCY  QUESTION. 


299 


ing  to  pay  in  restored  money  the  debts  incurred  in  a depreciated 
currency  ; and  how  such  a responsibility  was  to  be  met  was  a 
subject  of  anxiety,  not  only  to  the  government,  but  to  every 
thoughtful  citizen.  The  lapse  of  time,  however,  would  not  mend 
the  matter,  but  make  it  worse. 

The  subject  was  talked  over  everywhere,  till  the  time  came 
for  its  discussion  in  parliament  in  the  next  May.  On  Debateg 
the  6th,  Mr.  Horner  made  his  long-expected  speech,1 
and  moved  his  sixteen  resolutions,  well  knowing  that  they  would 
be  put  down  by  a large  government  majority,  but  aware  of  the 
importance  of  distinctly  impressing  his  views  upon  the  House. 
Even  he,  who  so  well  knew  the  interest  of  the  subject,  was  sur- 
prised at  the  quiet  and  close  attention  paid  by  the  House,  not 
only  to  his  speech,  but  to  two  very  long  debates,  which  occupied 
several  nights.  “ Nothing,  perhaps,”  he  wrote  to  his  father,2 
“ could  prove  more  strongly  that,  however  the  votes  have  gone, 
from  timidity,  as  well  as  from  the  usual  motives  that  make  ma- 
jorities, there  is  a general  persuasion  that  something  of  impor- 
tance to  every  man’s  own  private  concerns,  as  well  as  the  public 
interests,  was  involved  in  the  question.”  The  first  debate  lasted 
four  nights,  when  his  resolutions  were  lost  by  a majority  of  7 6, 
in  a house  of  226  members.  A division  was  taken,  against  the 
wishes  of  some  of  Mr.  Horner’s  friends,  on  the  last  resolution, 
which  proposed  a return  to  cash  payments  in  two  years,  rather 
than  (as  at  present  arranged)  in  six  months  from  the  conclusion 
of  a peace.  Forty-five  voted  in  favor  of  the  resolution  ; and  it 
was  thought  to  be  so  much  gained,  that  forty-five  stood  pledged 
to  the  most  extreme  proposal  of  the  report.  Four  days  after- 
wards, the  government,  by  the  mouth  of  Mr.  Yansittart,  moved 
seventeen  counter- resolutions, 3 the  third  of  which  has  since  been, 
and  will  ever  be,  celebrated  for  its  absurdity  — that  bank-notes 
44  have  hitherto  been,  and  are  at  this  time,  held  in  public  estima- 
tion to  be  equivalent  to  the  legal  coin  of  the  realm,  and  generally 
accepted  as  such,  in  all  pecuniary  transactions  to  which  such 
coin  is  lawfully  applicable.”  It  will  never  be  forgotten  that 
an  English  House  of  Commons  voted  bank-notes  to  be  equal 
to  gold  when  a hundred  pounds  of  them  would  purchase  only 
86/.  10s.  6c/.  of  gold.  Out  of  the  government  of  that  day,  how- 
ever, came  a man  who,  within  ten  years,  restored  us  to  a casli 
currency,  and  thereby  made  paper  really  of  equal  value  with 
gold. 

Those  were  days  when  the  perils  which  hung  over  Europe, 
and  threatened  the  national  existence  of  the  few  unconquered 
foes  of  Napoleon,  seemed  to  thrust  aside  all  projects  for  the  ame- 

1 Hansard,  xix.  pp.  799-830.  2 Memoirs,  ii.  p.  86. 

3 Hansard,  xx.  p.  69. 


300 


PENAL  LAW  REFORM. 


[Book  II. 


lioration  of  society  at  home,  which  could  be  deferred  to  a time 
of  peace.  But  some  evils  were  becoming  so  flagrant  that  they 
would  not  wait.  The  increase  of  housebreaking  was  one  of 
Penal  law  these  ; and  of  theft  of  every  kind.  Wise  men  saw 
reform.  that  much  of  the  evil  was  owing  to  the  non-execution 
of  the  laws,  and  that  the  reason  why  the  laws  were  not  executed 
was  the  excessive  severity  of  some  of  them.  In  the  words  of 
Romilly,  crimes  had  become  more  frequent,  offenders  more  daring 
and  desperate,  public  morals  more  outraged,  and  the  laws  more 
despised,  from  year  to  year.  Romilly  brought  in  a Bill  to  repeal 
the  barbarous  Act  which  made  it  a capital  offence  to  steal  to  the 
amount  of  40s.  in  a dwelling-house.  In  a very  thin  House,  31 
voted  in  favor  of  the  Bill ; and  it  was  lost  by  a majority  of  two.1 
Of  the  33  who  voted  against  it,  22  were  men  in  office.  When 
a Bill  to  abolish  capital  punishment  for  the  offence  of  stealing  to 
the  value  of  5s.  in  a shop  was  brought  forward,  in  the  Upper 
House,  by  Lord  Holland,  it  was  thrown  out  by  a majority  of  31 
to  11  ; 2 and  the  majority  (anxiously  summoned  by  Ministers  to  the 
division)  included  seven  prelates  : a fact  memorable  in  the  his- 
tory of  a Christian  country.  The  repeal  of  a law,  whose  exist- 
ence even  now  seems  scarcely  to  be  credible,  was  pronounced,  by 
the  teachers  of  the  gospel  of  Christ,  “ too  speculative  to  be  safe.” 
In  the  next  session,  the  40s.  Bill  passed  the  Commons,  and  with 
it  some  others  repealing  capital  punishments  in  cases  of  small 
thefts  — vigorous  as  was  the  opposition  of  the  Prime  Minister  ; 
but  they  were  thrown  out  in  the  Lords.  The  seven  prelates,  and 
the  hereditary  legislators  among  whom  they  sat,  were  still  deaf  to 
the  outcry  of  humanity,  and  blind  to  the  evidences  of  social  pol- 
icy ; so  that  pilferers  were  still  hanged  in  long  rows  ; the  most 
hardy  and  dexterous  villains  were  still  abroad  ; and  the  shop- 
keepers and  humble  housekeepers  of  the  kingdom  continued  to 
be  victims,  because  they  could  not  find  in  their  hearts  to  get  men 
hanged  for  stealing  gown-pieces,  and  coals  from  a wherry,  and 
the  contents  of  the  larder.  A beginning  had  been  made,  how- 
ever, in  1808,  when  Sir  S.  Romilly  obtained  the  repeal  of  the 
capital  punishment  for  stealing  from  the  person  to  the  value  of 
5s.  And  in  1811,  the  Lords  abolished  the  death-penalty  for 
stealing  in  bleaching-grounds,3  in  consequence  of  the  earnest  pe- 
tition of  a large  body  of  proprietors  of  bleaching-grounds.  The 
argument  of  the  petitioners  was,  that  “ of  late  such  offences  had 
greatly  increased  ; ” and  this  was  precisely  the  argument  used 
by  the  Lords  for  rejecting  three  out  of  four  of  Sir  Samuel  Rom- 
illy’s  Acts  of  amelioration. 

During  this  period  of  increasing  crime,  we  observe  symptoms 

1 Hansard,  xvi.  p.  780.  2 Ibid.  xvii.  p.  200* 

8 Memoirs  of  Romilly,  ii.  p.  366- 


Chap.  III.] 


CONDITION  OF  THE  CLERGY. 


301 


of  awakening  to  the  condition  of  the  Church.  The  wretched  for- 
tune of  poor  curates  was  mentioned  in  parliament;  and  condition  of 
once  mentioned,  it  was  not  likely  to  be  forgot'en.  No  the  clergy, 
one  could  consider  it  defensible  that  rich  livings  should  be  held 
by  absentee  clergymen,  while  the  curates  who  did  the  duty  were 
paid  too  little  to  afford  them  bread.  The  most  selfish  of  the 
aristocracy  had  of  late  — since  the  breaking  out  of  the  French 
Revolution  — seen  and  avowed  the  importance  of  countenancing 
the  religion  of  the  country,1  and  rendering  the  clergy  respectable 
in  the  eyes  of  the  people,  as  the  best  kind  of  political  police. 
Higher-minded  men  saw  better  reasons  for  abating  the  scandal  of 
the  juxtaposition  of  wealthy  livings  and  a starving  clergy ; and 
by  the  great  body  of  the  people,  the  working  clergy,  who  were 
their  helpers  and  friends,  were  more  regarded  than  the  great 
men  of  the  church,  who  were  too  far  above  them,  or  lived  too  far 
away,  to  command  their  sympathies.  In  1808,  the  House,  of 
Lords  decided  in  favor  of  an  inquiry  into  the  number  of  livings 
which  exceeded  400/.  a year,  distinguishing  those  which  were 
served  by  curates  from  those  on  which  the  incumbent  was  resi- 
dent. And  again,  they  addressed  the  King,  to  pray  him  to  cause 
to  be  furnished  an  account  of  the  number  of  livings  under  150/. 
a year.  The  subject  was  still  afloat  when,  in  June  of  this  year, 
1810,  Lord  Holland  objected  to  the  grant  of  100, 000/. 2 from  the 
public  money,  for  the  relief  of  the  poorer  clergy,  under  the  name 
of  Queen  Anne’s  Bounty.  The  relief  proposed  was  a mere  tem- 
porary almsgiving,  on  account  of  the  excessive  need  of  an  impov- 
erished clergy  ; and  he  thought  it  a scandal,  tending  much  to  the 
increase  of  dissent,  that  money  should  be  taken  out  of  the  com- 
mon purse,  in  a season  of  heavy  taxation,  while  the  spectacle  was 
before  the  people’s  eyes  of  rich  benefices,  untouched,  where  even 
no  service  was  done.  The  objection,  though  unavailing  in  regard 
to  the  grant,  brought  out  some  honest  opinions  and  manly  avow- 
als, as  to  the  objectionable  distribution  of  church  property,  afford- 
ing hope  of  a reform  at  a future  time.  A curious  incident  oc- 
curred the  next  evening,  when  Lord  Sidmouth,  impressed  with 
the  rapid  increase  of  dissent,  and  attributing  much  of  it  to  a 
paucity  of  churches,  moved  for  a return  (which  was  granted)  of 
the  numbers  and  capacity  of  churches  and  dissenting  chapels  in 
parishes  containing  a population  of  1000  and  upwards.  His 
speech  brought  out,  from  Lord  Holland,  a remark  about  the  lux- 
ury of  the  Church ; 3 and  Lord  Sidmouth’s  reply  was  that  a 
church  could  not  be  called  luxurious,  which  had  10,000  livings, 
out  of  which  no  less  than  4000  were  under  150/.  a year.  It  did 
not  occur  to  him,  well  as  he  knew  how  great  was  the  aggregate 

1 Annual  Register,  1808,  p.  119.  2 Hansard,  xvii.  p.  751. 

3 Ibid.  p.  771. 


302  DISSENTERS’  LICENSES  BILL.  [Book  II. 

wealth  of  the  Church,  that  if  so  many  as  4000  livings  were  too 
poor,  many  must  be  much  too  rich. 

Lord  Sidmouth  was  at  this  time  busy  about  his  well-intended 
Dissenters’  and  unfortunate  Bill  to  regulate  the  issue  of  preach- 
Licenses  ing  licenses  to  Dissenting  Ministers,  which  created  a 
prodigious  ferment  the  next  year.  There  were  omis- 
sions in  the  Toleration  Act  through  which  any  person  complying 
with  certain  forms  could  preach  anywhere,  whether  he  was  of 
age  or  a minor,  and  however  grossly  ignorant.  In  the  record  of* 
licenses  kept  for  the  county  of  Middlesex,  the  words  “ preacher,” 
“ gospel,”  1 and  so  on,  were  found  misspelled  in  every  conceiva- 
ble way  by  applicants ; in  Staffordshire  journeymen  potters  ap- 
plied for  licenses  to  preach,  owning  themselves  no  otherwise  pre- 
pared for  preaching  than  as  they  were  instructed  “ by  God  and 
the  Holy  Ghost.”  Their  application  was  refused  ; but  the  re- 
fusal was  found  to  be  illegal.  For  many  months,  Lord  Sidmouth 
was  aided  and  upheld  in  his  work  of  preparation  by  the  leading 
dissenting  ministers  of  the  kingdom,  w ho  felt  as  strongly  as  any 
churchman  could  do  the  evil  of  the  work  of  religious  instruction, 
and  the  guidance  of  religious  worship,  being  allowed  to  pass  into 
the  hands  of  the  ignorant,  who  were  sure  to  be,  in  that  case,  also 
the  presumptuous.  But  difficulties  arose.  The  Methodists  took 
the  alarm  first.  They  declared  themselves  not  dissenters,  and 
gave  notice  that  they  w7ould  not  recognize  the  measure  ; w hich 
yet,  however,  was  framed  chiefly  with  a view7  to  them.  The 
most  unreasonable  fears  arose  and  spread.  It  was  feared  that 
the  measure  wrould  contract  the  Toleration  Act,  wffiich  it  was  in- 
tended to  expand  and  confirm.  It  was  feared  that  a revival  of 
the  Conventicle  Act  would  follow  upon  it.  Mr.  Wilberforce  and 
his  sect  dreaded  interference  with  religious  meetings  in  private 
houses.  By  the  spring  of  1811,  the  ferment  had  become  wdiolly 
unmanageable.  Nothing  could  have  been  finer  than  the  demon- 
stration made,  if  it  had  been  in  defence  of  religious  liberty 
against  any  real  danger ; but  the  movement  wras  characterized 
by  one  of  the  most  eminent  dissenting  ministers  of  the  time,  Mr. 
Belsham,  as  one  of  “ morbid  sensibility.”  The  Premier  wrote  to 
Lord  Sidmouth  2 that  he  owned  himself  “seriously  alarmed.” 
Lord  Liverpool  wrote  an  entreaty  to  him  to  let  the  Dissenters 
alone  while  they  kept  themselves  quiet,  or  it  would  occasion  new 
trouble  with  the  Catholics.  But  Lord  Sidmouth  wrould  not  give 
way.  He  brought  forward  his  Bill  on  the  9th  of  May,  1811  ;3 
when  Lord  Holland  objected  to  it.  He  complained  of  the  inso- 
lence of  declaring  persons  to  be  unfit  to  preach  religion  because 
they  were  in  an  humble  station  in  life  ; because  they  might,  as 

1 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  iii.  pp.  41,  43.  2 Ibid.  pp.  61,  62. 

8 Hansard,  xiv.  p.  1132. 


Chap.  III.]  THE  QUESTION  OF  PRIVILEGE. 


303 


Lord  Sidmouth  had  said,  have  come  down  into  the  pulpit  from 
the  chimney  or  from  the  pillory ; he  objected  to  any  dictation 
from  any  quarter  as  to  who  was  and  who  was  not  to  utter  truth, 
or  what  seemed  to  him  to  be  such,  in  his  own  way  ; and  he 
thought  it  better  that  a small  number  of  unfit  persons  should  en- 
joy the  exemptions  (such  as  from  serving  in  the  militia  and  on 
juries)  granted  to  Dissenting  Ministers,  than  that  conflicts  on 
the  subject  of  religious  liberty  should  be  provoked,  without  any 
public  solicitation  from  the  Dissenters  themselves.  The  further 
the  opposition  went,  the  more  resolved  was  Lord  Sidmouth  to 
persevere,  that  he  might  not  be  misunderstood,  but  fairly  put  his 
measure  on  record.  Some  members  of  the  Cabinet  had  an  in- 
terview with  him  on  the  21st,  and  remonstrated,  and  endeavored 
to  persuade  — in  vain.  On  that  night,  he  moved  the  second 
reading  ; and  the  Bill  was  negatived  without  a division.1  In  the 
following  year,  Lord  Liverpool  caused  a relaxation  of  some  of 
the  statutes  which  affected  the  Dissenters,  relieving  Relief  to 
them  (among  other  burdens)  from  the  necessity  of  tak-  dissenters, 
ing  the  oaths  and  making  the  declaration  prescribed  by  the  Tol- 
eration Act,  only  leaving  their  teachers  and  preachers  liable  to 
be  called  upon  for  such  an  observance  by  a justice  of  the  peace, 
provided  they  were  not  required  to  go  more  than  five  miles  from 
their  own  homes  for  the  purpose.  Throughout  the  whole  affair, 
which  was  prodigiously  noisy  at  the  time,  the  embarrassment 
was  the  same  that  attends  all  efforts  to  legislate,  more  or  less,  in 
relation  to  matters  of  opinion.  If  there  had  been  no  Toleration 
Act,  and  no  recognition  by  law  of  differences  in  religion,  Lord 
Holland’s  opposition  to  Lord  Sidmouth’s  Bill  would  have  been 
supported  on  every  hand.  But  if  the  law  practically  assumed 
any  power  of  intervention  about  religious  teaching  and  preaching, 
it  seems  reasonable  that  it  should  insist,  as  in  other  cases  of 
permitted  function,  that  the  functionary  should  not  be  a minor, 
or  a convict,  or  unfit  to  teach  because  he  had  everything  to 
learn.  And  many  years  were  yet  to  elapse  before  the  Dissent- 
ers obtained  that  equality  before  the  law  which  Lord  Holland 
aided  them  to  procure,  and  which  could  hardly  have  been  post- 
poned, or  even  discountenanced,  by  the  passage  of  Lord  Sid- 
mouth’s unfortunate  Dissenters’  Licenses  Bill. 

Everything  that  passed  in  parliament,  and  perhaps  out  of  it; 
in  the  spring  of  1810,  was  of  insignificant  interest  in  privilege 
comparison  with  the  great  struggle  about  parliamen-  question, 
tary  Privilege  which  was  brought  on  at  that  time.  The  Bullion 
Committee,  commercial  disasters,  the  prospects  of  the  harvest  — 
everything  was  made  light  of  while  men  were  watching  the  do- 
ings of  Sir  Francis  Burdett,  his  partisans,  and  his  enemies.  There 
1 Hansard,  xx.  p.  255. 


804  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  COMPROMISES.  [Book  II. 


is  no  liability  so  marked,  among  the  dangers  of  patriotic  citizens 
in  our  country,  as  that  of  insensibility  to  the  danger  of  pressing 
hard  upon  the  compromises  of  a constitution  like  that  under 
which  we  live.  It  is  not  a constitution  framed  by  design,  every 
part  of  which  is  open  to  decision  by  every  sort  of  mind.  It  is 
not  one  which  Sir  Francis  Burdett  could  teach,  like  a mathe- 
matical problem,  to  the  son  standing  at  his  knee.  It  is  a struct- 
ure which  has  risen  and  spread  by  gradual  accretion,  and  is  made 
serviceable  by  a series  of  accommodations.  Many  a sincere 
patriot  may  have  endangered  the  Constitution  as  much  y strain- 
ing a compromise  as  any  Stuart  could  do  by  straining  his  pre- 
rogative. That  prerogative  includes  a whole  group  of  comp  o- 
mises ; the  connection  of  the  throne  and  the  Church  is  another ; 
the  respective  powers  of  parliament  and  the  Law  Courts  are  a 
third  ; and  there  are  many  more.  When  any  of  our  constitu- 
tional compromises  are  so  presumed  upon  by  any  party  as  to 
endanger  broadly  the  rights  of  any  other  party,  it  becomes  the 
duty  of  citizens  to  call  the  compromise  to  account  — to  bring  it 
into  discussion  — to  cause  it  to  be  thoroughly  reviewed,  in  order 
to  have  it  settled  whether  the  compromise  shall  continue  or  be 
replaced  by  definite  enactments.  But  such  a search  should  be  a 
very  rare  event ; and  he  who  insists  upon  the  move  should  be 
very  certain  that  some  rights  are  invaded,  or  sure  to  be  so,  before 
he  presses  hard  on  the  obscure  and  tender  parts  of  the  constitu- 
tion. Such  a man  as  Burdett  was  not  likely  to  be  thus  cautious, 
or  in  any  way  sensible  of  the  importance  of  what  he  was  doing 
when  he  raised  the  struggle  on  the  Privilege  question  in  1810. 
It  may  convey  some  idea  of  the  bearings  of  the  matter  to  con- 
trast him  and  his  blustering  confidence  with  the  modest  and  con- 
scientious doubts  of  the  philosophic  lawyer,  Francis  Horner. 
While  Burdett,  whose  sincerity  there  seems  no  reason  to  doubt, 
was  parading  the  streets  as  a popular  champion,  and  publishing 
libels,  and  denouncing  all  men  as  fools  and  corrupt  who  did  not 
view  the  matter  as  he  did,  Horner  was  writing  thus  to  Lord 
Holland : 1 “ I am  ashamed  to  say  that  I am  in  a sea  of  difficul- 
ties and  doubts  about  privilege ; and  what  keeps  me  so  long  in 
uncertainty  is,  the  confidence  with  which  I hear  both  the  oppo- 
site opinions  maintained In  such  an  emergency, 

when  my  oracles  give  discordant  responses,  I mean  to  try  if  1 
can  form  an  opinion  for  myself.” 

The  case  of  which  it  was  so  difficult  to  judge  arose  thus. 

On  the  1st  of  February,  when  the  inquiry  about  the  Walcheren 
expedition  was  soon  to  come  on  in  the  House  of  Commons,  Mr. 
Yorke  gave  notice  that  he  should,  on  that  occasion,  move  for  the 
exclusion  of  strangers,  in  order  that  incomplete  accounts  of  the 
1 Memoirs,  ii.  p.  39. 


Chap.  III.] 


CASE  OF  JOHN  GALE  JONES. 


305 


evidence  might  not  get  abroad  before  the  whole  could  be  laid 
before  the  public.  Mr.  Sheridan,  on  the  6th,  spoke  in  objection 
— not  to  the  use  of  the  power  of  exclusion  by  any  member  on 
proper  occasion,  but  to  declare  his  opinion,  and  call  upon  other 
members  to  declare  theirs,  that  the  approaching  occasion  was  not 
a proper  one.  The  House,  thinking  that  each  member  must 
judge  of  each  occasion  for  himself,1  voted  with  Mr.  Yorke,  leav- 
ing Mr.  Sheridan  in  a small  minority.  As  for  the  point  of  the 
publication  of  the  minutes  of  evidence,  that  was  settled  by  their 
being  published  every  third  day,  through  the  whole  course  of  the 
inquiry. 

Among  the  debating  societies  which  abounded  at  that  time 
was  one  called  the  British  F orum,  which  held  its  sittings  in  Bed- 
ford Street,  Covent  Garden,  and  was  presided  over  by  an  apoth- 
ecary, whose  name  was  John  Gale  Jones.  The  matter  of  the 
exclusion  of  strangers  during  the  Walcheren  investigation  was 
discussed  at  this  club  ; and  Mr.  Jones  published  the  result  in 
placards  which  were  posted  in  all  directions  on  the  walls.  The 
announcement  was  that  the  exclusion  of  strangers  was  an  attack 
on  the  liberty  of  the  press,  which  ought  to  be  censured  ; and  that 
the  members  of  the  British  Forum  would  discuss  on  a certain 
evening  the  point,2  “ Which  was  a greater  outrage  on  the  public 
feeling,  Mr.  Yorke’s  enforcement  of  the  standing  order  to  exclude 
strangers  from  the  House  of  Commons,  or  Mr.  Windham’s  recent 
attack  on  the  liberty  of  the  press.”  Mr.  Yorke  having  com- 
plained in  the  House  of  this  placard,  the  printer,  John  Dean, 
was  brought  to  the  bar.  Having  given  up  the  name  of  Mr.  Jones 
as  the  writer,  Dean  was  committed  to  the  custody  of  the  Ser- 
geant-at-arms,  and  Jones  was  ordered  to  attend  the  next  day, 
February  21st.3  Jones  declared  that  he  had  acted  under  the 
conviction  that  it  was  the  right  of  every  Englishman  to  comment 
on  all  public  proceedings,  and  not  from  any  disrespect  towards 
the  House  of  Commons  ; that,  on  looking  over  the  placard  again, 
he  found  he  had  erred ; and  that  he  threw  himself  on  the  mercy 
of  the  House.  The  House  voted  unanimously  that  he  had  been 
guilty  of  a gross  breach  of  the  privileges  of  parliament  ; and 
that  he  should  be  committed  to  Newgate.  Dean  was  repri- 
manded and  discharged,  after  sending  in  an  humble  petition  for 
forgiveness ; and  the  proceedings  were  entered  in  the  Journals 
of  the  House. 

On  the  12th  of  March,  Sir  Francis  Burdett,  who  had  been 
absent  through  illness,  questioned  the  legality  of  the  whole  pro- 
ceedings in  regard  to  Jones.4  Mr.  Sheridan  moved  for  the 
release  of  Jones,  on  the  ground  of  his  contrition  ; but  this  could 

1 Hansard,  xv.  p.  345.  2 Annual  Register,  1810,  p.  92. 

8 Hansard,  xv.  p.  501.  4 Ibid.  xvi.  p.  14. 

VOL.  i.  20 


306 


SIR  FRANCIS  BURDETT’S  CASE.  [Book  II. 


not  be  justified,  as  he  h'ad  been  committed  after  his  expressions 
of  contrition  ; and  the  vote  was  taken  on  the  question  of  the  le- 
gality of  the  proceedings.  Thirteen  members  voted  with  Bur- 
dett,  and  153  against  him.  Burdett’s  next  act  was  to  write  a 
“ Letter  to  his  constituents,  denying  the  right  of  the  blouse  of 
Commons  to  imprison  the  people  of  England ; ” and  this  letter 
was  published  in  Cobbett’s  Register  on  the  24th  of  March.  It 
was  indisputably  libellous  throughout.  In  appealing  to  Magna 
Charta,  he  contrasted  1 “ the  laws  of  our  forefathers  ” with  the 
declarations  of  “ a part  of  our  fellow-subjects,  collected  together 
by  means  which  it  is  not  necessary  to  describe.”  Mr.  Leth- 
bridge brought  the  letter  under  the  notice  of  the  House.  Bur- 
dett  declared  that  he  had  never  contemplated  any  breach  of  priv- 
ilege ; and  that  he  would  stand  the  issue.  He  withdrew,  and 
Mr.  Lethbridge  moved  two  Resolutions  declaring  the  Letter  a 
scandalous  libel,  and  that  Sir  Francis  Burdett,  in  authorizing  its 
publication,  had  been  guilty  of  a violation  of  the  privileges  of  the 
House.  After  discussion  and  adjournments,  the  Resolutions 
were  agreed  to  at  half-past  seven  in  the  morning  of  Friday  the 
6th  of  April ; and  a vote  was  taken  on  the  question  whether  Sir 
Pariiamen-  Francis  Burdett  should  be  reprimanded  in  his  place, 
tary  censure  or  committed  to  the  Tower.  His  committal  to  the 
of  Burdett.  Tower  was  decided  on  by  a majority  of  38  in  a House 
of  342  members.2 

The  Speaker  signed  the  warrant  at  half- past  eight,  that  spring 
morning,  and  ordered  its  execution  before  ten  o’clock.  The  Ser- 
geant-at-arms,  however,  wras  polite,  and  thought  it  desirable  to 
give  notice  to  the  culprit ; and  it  was  five  o’clock  before  he  saw 
Sir  Francis  Burdett  at  his  own  residence.  Sir  Francis  prom- 
ised to  be  ready  to  receive  him  at  eleven  o’clock  the  next  morn- 
ing — Saturday.  The  Sergeant  supposed  this  to  mean  that  his 
prisoner  would  go  quietly  ; and  he  left  him.  At  eight  o’clock, 
the  Sergeant  came  again,  and  told  his  prisoner  that  he  had  re- 
ceived a severe  reprimand  from  the  Speaker  for  leaving  the  war- 
rant unexecuted.  Burdett  replied  that  he  had  written  to  the 
Speaker  to  declare  his  disbelief  of  the  legality  of  the  warrant ; 
and  now  he  wrould  not  go,  unless  taken  by  force ; and  that  he 
should  make  all  possible  resistance.  Meantime,  a mob  had 
gathered  in  Piccadilly,  in  front  of  Burdett’s  house.  During  the 
night,  and  all  Saturday  and  Saturday  night,  the  concourse  re- 
mained and  increased ; and  the  Sergeant  obtained  no  answer  to 
Lis  repeated  knocks  at  the  door.  At  seven  on  Sunday  morning, 
he  tried  again,  and  in  vain;  and  by  this  time  it  was  evident 
that  the  capture  could  not  be  made  without  the  aid  of  a formida- 
ble force.  The  merits  of  the  question  were  not  so  clear  but  that 
1 Annual  Register,  1810,  p.  99.  2 Hansard,  xvi.  p.  547. 


Chap.  III.] 


ARREST  OF  BURDETT. 


307 


Romilly  had  doubts.  He  stood  almost ’alone,  even  among  the 
Opposition,1  in  his  opinion  that  this  was  a case  which  should 
have  been  left  to  the  ordinary  tribunals,  as  the  animadversions 
of  Jones  and  Burdett  were  upon  a matter  already  concluded,  and 
therefore  not  censurable  as  impeding  the  proceedings  of  parlia- 
ment. The  dangerous  power  possessed  by  the  House  of  making 
itself  accuser,  judge,  and  jury,  however  indispensable  to  meet 
cases  where  their  proceedings  were  impeded  from  without,  ought 
not,  he  thought,  to  be  exercised  in  regard  to  comments  on  busi- 
ness concluded,  while  there  were  ordinary  tribunals  which  cou'd 
deal  with  libellers.  And  now,  on  the  Sunday,  the  Speaker 
was  so  uncertain  what  powers  he  possessed  of  enforcing  his  war- 
rant, that  he  sent  his  warrant  to  the  Attorney-General,  and  acted 
from  that  time  on  his  opinion. 

Meantime,  the  matter  had  become  very  serious.  On  the  Fri- 
day night,  Mr.  Perceval’s  windows  had  been  broken,  and  Mr. 
Lethbridge’s,  and  many  others ; and  the  mob  in  Piccadilly  com- 
pelled every  man  who  passed  to  take  off  his  hat,  and  cry  “Bur- 
dett forever ! ” At  noon  on  Saturday  the  Guards  and  a com- 
pany of  foot  were  sent  to  disperse  the  mob ; and  the  Riot  Act 
was  read  by  a magistrate.  The  dispersion  was  brief ; and  in  the 
evening,  as  the  assemblage  was  larger  than  ever,  the  Ministers 
sent  for  troops  from  all  parts  of  the  country.  Already,  several 
persons  were  wounded  in  the  streets.  By  Monday  morning,  the 
authorities  had  made  up  their  minds  what  to  do.  They  decided 
that  Burdett’s  house  must  be  broken  open,  and  that  he  must  be 
carried  to  the  Tower  by  force.  The  Sergeant  had  gone  to  the 
Secretary  of  State’s  office  on  Sunday  night,  and  formally  re- 
quested the  necessary  assistance.  About  ten  on  Monday  morn- 
ing, he  went  to  Burdett’s  house,  with  a strong  body  of  police,  a 
carriage,  and  an  escort  of  cavalry  and  foot-soldiers.  He  entered, 
tvith  the  police,  by  the  area  and  the  kitchen-door,  which  they 
forced.  Leaving  the  soldiers  below,  he  went  up-stairs  with  some 
police  officers,  to  the  room  where  Burdett  was  seated  with  his 
family  and  a few  friends.  Any  dignity  that  might  have  been 
supposed  to  attend  his  resistance  was  dissolved  at  once  by  a 
piece  of  bad  taste  — of  theatrical  display  — as  miserable  as  the 
Westminster  procession  when  his  footstool  was  a sprawling  fig- 
ure of  Venality.  He  was  found  sitting,  with  his  son  at  his  knee, 
to  whom  he  was  teaching  the  provisions  of  Magna  Charta.2 
He  again  refused  to  yield  to  anything  short  of  actual  force ; and 
the  constables  were  advancing  to  execute  his  apparent  desire, 
when  his  brother  and  a friend  at  his  side  took  hold  commitment 
each  of  an  arm,  and  led  him  down  to  the  carriage.  ^^rdetfc 
The  party  were  driven  rapidly,  by  the  northern  parts  Tower. 

1 Hansard  - xvi.  pp.  477-487.  2 Annual  Register,  1810,  p.  105. 


308 


DISRESPECTFUL  PETITIONS. 


[Book  II. 


of  the  city,  and  no  opposition  was  made  ; but  the  military  had 
to  sustain  severe  ill-usage  on  their  return.  A great  multitude 
rushed  to  Tower  Hill ; and  when  a cannon  was  fired,  according 
to  custom  on  the  reception  of  a state-prisoner,  the  rumor  was 
spread  that  the  Tower  guns  were  firing  upon  the  people.  The 
rage  among  the  populace  was  as  fierce  as  might  be  expected  ; 
and  the  soldiers  had  to  fight  their  way  from  the  entrance  of  East 
Cheap  to  London  Bridge.  It  was  some  time  before  they  fired  ; 
but  when  they  did,  two  or  three  people  were  killed,  and  many 
wounded. 

Sir  Samuel  Romilly  had  given  notice  of  a motion  for  that 
evening,  for  the  release  of  Jones  ; but  the  irritation  of  the  time 
was  so  great  that  he  consented  to  put  it  off.  The  Speaker  had 
no  such  choice.  He  was  obliged  to  read  to  the  House  1 the  letter 
he  had  received  from  Burdett.  It  was  a piece  of  vulgar  inso- 
lence, clearly  intended  to  provoke  his  expulsion  from  the  House. 
As  it  was  certain,  however,  that  Westminster  would  reelect  him 
by  acclamation,  he  was  not  gratified  by  any  proceedings  being 
taken  on  his  letter.  As  he  was  already  in  prison  for  breach  of 
privilege,  this  new  breach  was  passed  over. 

Day  by  day  tempers  grew  worse,  on  each  side.  Burdett 
brought  actions  at  law  against  the  Speaker,  the  Sergeant-at-Arms, 
and  Lord  Moira,  in  whose  custody  he  now  was.  When  Romilly 
moved,  on  the  16th,  for  the  release  of  Jones,  on  the  ground  that 
the  man  had  suffered  enough,  the  House  seemed  disposed  to 
agree  ; but  the  Ministers  would  not  permit  the  release,  without 
new  humiliations  on  the  part  of  the  culprit.  The  next  day,  the 
inhabitants  of  Westminster  sent  in  a petition  and  remonstrance 
so  affronting  in  its  language,2  that  it  was  a mortification  to  the 
House  to  have  it  entered  on  their  Journals  — which  was  a con- 
sequence of  its  being  ordered  to  lie  on  the  table.  A petition 
from  the  Livery  of  London,3  received  on  the  8th  of  May,  was 
hardly,  if  at  all,  more  disrespectful  than  the  Westminster  one  ; 
but  it  was  rejected  by  the  House.  A petition  from  the  freehold- 
ers of  Middlesex  was  treated  in  like  manner.  Burdett  was  very 
far  from  rejecting  the  addresses  sent  to  him.  The  newspapers  were 
full  of  accounts  of  them,  and  of  reports  of  the  prisoner’s  replies. 
His  vanity  was  now  in  all  its  glory.  The  state  of  men’s  passions 
at  that  time  is  shown  by  the  mistakes  made  about  Sir  Samuel 
Romilly’s  part  in  the  affair.  Because  he  thought  the  libels  in 
question  a business  for  the  ordinary  courts  to  settle,  rather  than 
parliament,  both  parties  jumped  to  the  conclusion  that  he  was  a 
partisan  of  Burdett’s.  It  was  so  reported,  in  and  out  of  the 
newspapers,  that  Burdett’s  resistance  was  under  his  advice,  and 
that  he  had  visited  the  baronet  frequently  during  the  days  of 
1 Hansard,  xvi.  p.  550.  2 Ibid.  p.  727.  3 Ibid.  p.  885. 


Chap.  III.] 


PERPLEXITIES.  — RELEASE. 


309 


siege,1  that  he  was  compelled  to  explain  in  the  House  that  he  had 
had  no  communication  whatever,  direct  or  indirect,  with  Burdett, 
and  that  he  had  never  been  in  his  house  in  his  life.  And  now, 
on  the  1 0th  of  May,2  Burdett’s  solicitor  offered  him  retainers  in 
the  three  actions  he  had  brought  against  his  captors.  It  could 
hardly  have  been  seriously  supposed  that  any  member  of  parlia- 
ment would  appear  in  this  cause. 

And  now  the  grand  difficulty  of  all  had  to  be  dealt  with : the 
question  whether  parliament  should  make  any  appear-  Question  of 
ance  at  all  in  the  Law  Courts.  It  was  decided  that  Pleading- 
the  Speaker  and  the  Sergeant-at-Arms  should  be  allowed  to  plead. 
The  Report  of  the  Committee  appointed  to  inquire  into  the  priv- 
ileges of  the  House  was  so  incorrect  that  it  had  to  be  recom- 
mitted. The  members  had  gone  out  of  their  beat,  so  far  even  as 
to  quote  the  opinion  of  the  peers,  as  ascertained  in  a confer- 
ence. The  House  refused  to  receive  this  opinion  ; and  yet,  as  it 
curiously  happened,  the  Lords  had,  after  all,  to  decide  a question 
of  the  privileges  of  the  Commons,  — Burdett’s  actions  being 
carried  before  them  by  a writ  of  error.  There  seemed  to  be  no 
end  of  the  perplexities  and  contradictions,  and  unmanageable 
difficulties  of  the  case ; as  always  happens  when  there  is  a strain 
upon  the  compromises  of  the  Constitution.  What  the  House 
had  desired  in  appointing  the  Committee  was  that,  by  means  of 
materials  furnished  by  the  Journals,  the  privilege  of  parliament 
should  be  accurately  defined  — the  questions  of  its  application 
and  applicability  remaining,  of  course,  for  consideration  in  each 
case  as  it  arose : but,  instead  of  this,  the  Committee  quoted  the 
opinions  of  the  peers,  and  gave  their  own  notions  of  the  powers 
of  the  Law  Courts  ; and  thus  their  labors  did  not  help  on  this 
vexed  question.  Meanwhile,  the  public  bodies  which  had  com- 
plimented Burdett  and  scolded  the  House  of  Commons,  began  to 
send  addresses  of  thanks  to  Romilly,  Lord  Erskine,  and  Mr. 
Whitbread  ; and  there  was  hardly  any  gathering  of  men,  how- 
ever small,  in  which  the  privilege  question  was  not  argued. 
Lord  Erskine  had  the  honor  of  meeting  the  Prince  of  Wales  at 
dinner  one  day,3  when  the  argument  on  the  subject  grew  hot  ie- 
tween  them.  Lord  Erskine  said  that  the  principles  he  advocated 
were  those  which  had  seated  the  family  of  his  Royal  Highness 
on  the  throne  ; and  the  Prince  retorted,  that  they  were  principles 
which  would  unseat  any  family  from  any  throne. 

The  affair  came  to  an  end  by  the  natural  opportunity  of  the 
prorogation  of  parliament  on  the  21st  of  June.  For  Burdett’s 
some  days  before  preparations  were  made  by  Bur-  release- 
dett’s  friends  for  such  a triumphal  procession  as  had  been  seldom 

1 Hansard,  xvi.  p.  549.  2 Memoirs,  ii.  p.  320. 

8 Memoirs  of  Horner,  ii.  p.  47. 


310 


A DISAPPOINTED  PROCESSION.  [Book  II. 


seen.  Placards  on  the  walls  announced  the  order  of  the  pagean- 
try ; and  caricatures  at  the  print-shops  represented  the  emerging 
of  the  sun  of  patriotism  from  the  east.  John  Bull,  in  an  ecstasy 
of  enjoyment,  was  basking  on  a bed  of  roses,  while  Burdett  shone 
on  him  from  the  morning  sky.  In  the  summer  dawn  of  the  great 
day,  the  tread  of  many  feet  was  heard  in  the  streets.  By  the 
afternoon,  the  whole  road  from  the  Tower  to  Burdett’s  house  in 
Piccadilly  was  a close-packed  crowd  ; and  the  windows  and  roofs 
of  all  the  houses  were  peopled  with  watchers.  Scaffoldings  in 
Piccadilly,  wagons  and  carts  wherever  they  could  be  put,  were 
all  covered  with  people  ; and  the  greater  number  wore  blue  cock- 
ades. Blue  silk  pennons  waved  from  the  windows;  and  blue 
flags  were  carried  about  the  streets,  and  made  to  float  before  the 
faces  of  the  immovable  cavalry  who  were  posted  here  and  there. 
Three  hundred  horsemen  were  waiting  outside  the  Tower  from 
two  o’clock  ; and  very  tired  they  were  of  waiting  when  the  mor- 
tifying catastrophe  was  made  known.  About  four  o’clock,  a sol- 
dier on  the  ramparts  put  a speaking-trumpet  to  his  mouth  ; and 
the  faces  on  Tower  Hill  turned  towards  him.  He  repeated  a 
few  words  several  times  ; but  those  who  heard  did  not  believe 
him.  What  he  said  was,  “ He  is  gone  by  water.”  This  was  not 
a thing  to  be  believed ; and  no  attention  was  paid  to  it.  Pres- 
ently one  of  the  constables  told  the  people  near  him  that  Burdett 
had  been  gone  some  time ; but  he  was  rebuked  for  saying  such  a 
thing,  just  to  get  the  people  to  go  away.  At  half-past  four,  three 
placards  were  hung  out  over  the  gates  of  the  Tower,  inscribed, 
“ Sir  Francis  Burdett  left  the  Tower  by  water,  at  half-past  three 
o’clock.”  The  committee,  at  first  confounded,  rallied  their  spirits, 
and  resolved  to  have  the  procession,  though  they  must  dispense 
with  the  hero.  Many  went  home,  many  at  distant  points  could 
not  be  made  to  understand ; but  others  joined,  and  the  proces- 
sion was  an  imposing  one.  Burdett’s  phaeton  was  empty ; 1 but 
Jones  was  on  the  roof  of  a hackney  coach,  haranguing  the  crowd 
very  actively,  but  amidst  too  much  noise  to  be  heard.  He  had 
been  ejected  from  prison  by  stratagem,  after  declaring  that  he 
would  never  go  out  spontaneously ; and  he  was  now  vehemently 
complaining  of  being  made  a free  man  against  his  will.  The 
ciowd  was  nearly  dispersed  by  ten  o’clock  ; but  those  in  Picca- 
dilly wTould  not  go  till  the  neighbors  had  illuminated ; and  soon, 
nearly  all  London  was  shining  out  at  the  windows. 

Sir  Francis  Burdett  never  fully  recovered  his  position  after 
this  day.  His  more  violent  partisans  despised  what  they  called 
his  cowardice  ; and  more  reasonable  men  complained  of  his  in- 
consistency. He  could  not  be  expected  to  join  the  procession 
after  frequent  warnings  that  lives  might  again  be  lost  in  the 
1 Annual  Register,  1810,  p.  112. 


Chap.  III.]  WEAKNESS  OF  THE  GOVERNMENT. 


311 


streets  ; but  he  should  have  known  his  own  mind  sooner,  and  have 
forbidden  the  procession.  Those  who  most  readily  gave  him 
credit  for  a sincere  abhorrence  of  injustice,  and  a genuine  instinct 
for  popular  rights,  and  who  were  willing  to  excuse  the  vanity 
which  lowered  the  patriotism,  saw  from  this  day  that  he  was  not 
to  be  relied  on  for  consistency  and  resolution.  A man  who  had 
provoked  the  contest  with  parliament,  and  ventured  the  over- 
throw of  public  order,  and  who  ended  by  slinking  home  in  a boat, 
leaving  his  army  of  admirers  waiting  for  him  in  the  streets,  was 
no  hero ; and  no  future  efforts  to  reestablish  him  as  a hero  were 
of  any  avail.  Though  many  persevered  for  some  time  in  deny- 
ing it,  his  day  was  over.  The  sun  was  not  punctual.  While 
people  were  gazing  eastwards  for  it  in  vain,  it  was  already  fast 
sinking  into  the  west.  John  Bull  looked  grave,  gathered  himself 
up  from  his  bed  of  roses,  and  went  home  grumbling. 

During  the  whole  of  this  session,  it  was  suspected  that  the 
ministry  was  in  a very  unsettled  state  ; and  we  now  know  that 
they  felt  themselves  so  weak  that  they  struggled  on  with  a diffi- 
culty which  perhaps  some  clear-sighted  men  might  have  inferred 
from  the  positiveness,  hardness,  and  insolence  of  the  Premier’s 
tone.  Mr.  PercevaTs  tone  was  so  excessively  peremptory  at 
times,  that  wise  observers  might  reasonably  suppose  that  there 
was  misgiving  and  fear  within.  Lord  Mulgrave  sue-  Weakness 
ceeded  Lord  Chatham  in  May,  as  has  been  said  ; and  ofthegov- 
there  were  shiftings  of  office  among  those  already  in  ernment- 
the  government.  In  April,  the  Premier  had  endeavored  to  for- 
tify himself  by  bringing  in  Lords  Sidinouth1  and  Castlereagh, 
both  valuable  for  their  command  of  votes,  and  Mr.  Canning,  in- 
estimable for  his  ability.  None  of  them  thought  that  Canning 
would  come  in ; but  they  might  as  well  try.  The  answer  was 
an  instant  refusal ; and  so  was  Lord  Sidmouth’s,  in  case  of  Can- 
ning’s acceptance.  He  was  open  to  solicitation,  however,  if  Can- 
ning declined;  and  he  was  kept  waiting  till  the  12th  of  June, 
when  Lord  Wellesley  called  on  him  with  renewed  proposals.  The 
difficulty  was  that  Lord  Wellesley  would  not  agree  to  any  irrev- 
ocable exclusion  of  his  friend  Canning.  In  July,  the  Premier 
went  himself  to  Lord  Sidmouth,  with  no  better  success.  The 
two  gentlemen  could  only  sigh  over  the  fidelity  of  Lord  Welles- 
ley to  his  friend.  In  September,  there  was  some  idea  of  letting 
Lord  Wellesley  go;  but  this  could  not  be  ventured;  and  then, 
of  inducing  Canning  and  Castlereagh  to  come  in  together.  Cas- 
tlereagh was  applied  to  first ; 2 and  his  refusal  was  so  positive, 
that  nothing  more  could  be  done  ; and  the  Cabinet  must  hold  on 
as  it  could  till  some  change  should  take  place  of  itself.  “ So 
ends  our  negotiation,”  wrote  Mr.  Perceval  to  Lord  Eldon  ; “ and 
1 Life,  iii.  p.  26.  2 Life  of  Lord  Eldon,  ii.  p.  126. 


312 


WELLESLEY.  — DEATH  OE  WINDHAM.  IBook  II, 


the  consequence,  I trust,  will  be,  that  we  shall  all  be  determined 
to  do  the  best  we  can  to  stand  firmly  and  unitedly  by  ourselves, 
when  we  tind  we  cannot  mend  matters.”  Helpless  as  the  Cabi- 
net would  have  been  without  Lord  Wellesley,  there  were  several 
there  who  would  have  been  delighted  to  be  rid  of  him ; for  they 
found  him  very  troublesome.  He  was  forever,  by  his  knowledge, 
checking  their  ignorant  expectations  about  Spain  ; and  he  never 
ceased  to  claim  for  his  “ brother  Arthur”  justice  in  the  conditions 
under  which  he  was  to  carry  on  the  war  in  Spain,  it  was  trouble- 
some to  be  rebuked  for  expecting  victories  when  the  general  was 
left  unsupplied  with  men,  money,  stores,  authority  abroad,  and 
influence  at  home  — with  everything  essential  to  the  successful 
prosecution  of  the  war.  Lord  Wellesley  would  not  relax  in  his 
assertion  of  his  brother’s  needs  and  claims  ; and  so,  the  underlings 
of  the  government  agreed  that  he  was  a very  disappointing  person 
for  so  great  a man ; and  that  his  discontents  must  be  owing  to 
literary  jealousy.  When  he  spoke  in  the  Lords,  he  must  have 
everything  ad  unguem  ; 1 and  would  not  rise  and  speak  unless  he 
was  thus  carefully  prepared.  As  might  be  expected,  his  written 
communications  were  industriously  finished.  It  so  happened  that 
the  other  leading  members  of  the  Cabinet  were  remarkably  bad 
writers.  Among  gentlemen,  it  would  hardly  be  possible  to  find 
worse;  yet  they  altered  and  amended  Lord  Wellesley’s  produc- 
tions to  such  a degree  that,  as  he  told  a friend,  “ he  had  thought 
he  was  among  a cabinet  of  statesmen  ; but  he  found  them  a set 
of  critics.”  The  underlings  got  hold  of  this ; and  they  settled,2 
to  their  own  satisfaction,  that  literary  jealousy  was  the  reason 
why  Lord  Wellesley  did  not  work  smoothly  with  the  Eldons  and 
the  Percevals  of  the  government.  To  take  in  Castlereagh  with- 
out Canning  was  not  thought  of  for  a moment.  It  was  not  only 
that  the  Premier  knew  he  must  lose  Lord  Wellesley  in  such  a 
case  ; 3 but,  as  he  told  an  adherent,  Lord  Castlereagh’s  unpopu- 
larity was  so  great,  notwithstanding  some  considerable  talent,  and 
very  conciliatory  manners,  that  his  junction,  unaccompanied  by 
his  rival,  would  be  purely  detrimental  to  the  government.  For 
long  afterwards,  Lord  Castlereagh’s  aid  was  thought  and  called 
“ a mere  acquisition  of  weakness.”  No  present  opening  appeared 
for  either  of  the  late  Cabinet  duellists,  as  they  would  not  come 
in  together. 

Meantime,  a leading  man  was  gone  from  the  ranks  of  their 
Death  of  opponents  ; a chief  member  of  the  Grenville  Opposi- 
windham.  tion  party.  In  helping  to  save  the  books  of  a friend 
whose  house  was  burning,  Mr.  Windham  had,  a year  before,  re- 
ceived a blow  on  the  hip  which  he  thought  of  little  importance ; 
but  it  cost  him  his  life.  In  May  he  was  condemned  to  an  oper- 
1 Ward’s  Memoirs,  i.  p.  317.  2 Ibid.  p.  429.  3 Ibid.  pp.  290,  421. 


Chap.  III.]  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  WINDHAM. 


313 


ation,  as  the  only  chance  of  recovery  ; on  the  17th,  after  every 
preparation  of  mind  and  affairs  that  a brave  and  careful  man 
could  make,  he  put  himself  into  the  hands  of  the  surgeons.  On 
the  4th  of  June,  he  sank  under  the  consequences  of  the  opera- 
tion, which  could  not  possibly  have  availed.  He  was  sixty 
years  of  age.  In  the  midst  of  the  general  regret  for  the  loss  of 
the  most  accomplished  gentleman,  perhaps,  then  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  and  a man  of  many  noble  intellectual  and  moral 
qualities,  no  one  undertook  to  say  that  the  country  had  sustained 
a political  loss.  “ Windham,”  it  was  once  said,1  “ is  certainly  a 
drawback  upon  the  value  of  any  Ministry,  unless  he  can  be  kept 
in  order.”  This  “ keeping  in  order,”  however,  was  just  what 
could  never  be  done,  either  by  himself  or  others  ; and  it  was  not 
only  the  Ministry  he  belonged  to  that  suffered  by  his  perverse- 
ness. The  whole  people  suffered  when  such  a man  as  Windham 
put  forth  his  great  powers  in  opposition  to  popular  education, 
and  the  mitigation  of  our  penal  laws.  Mackintosh  declared  him 
a man  of  a very  high  order,  spoiled  by  faults  apparently  small. 
But  such  a love  of  paradox  as  made  Windham  the  perverse  man 
he  was,  is,  and  ought  to  be  considered,  one  of  the  gravest  of  faults 
that  can  be  harbored  by  the  kind  of  mind  which  is  capable  of 
harboring  it  at  all.  The  habit  of  tampering  with  truth  in  specu- 
lative matters,  and  of  dealing  with  facts  in  a spirit  of  prejudice, 
must  be  constantly  weakening  the  foundations  of  thought  and 
action,  and  vitiating  the  whole  structure  of  opinion  and  practice. 
This  consequence  of  his  perverseness  had  gone  far  enough  in 
Mr.  Windham’s  case,  to  make  his  opinions  of  little  value,  except 
to  those  who  found  it  convenient  to  quote  them.  He  could  grat- 
ify some  and  annoy  others  (defying  all  conjecture  as  to  whom  he 
was  about  to  gratify  or  annoy),  but  no  one  thought  of  being  con- 
vinced by  him.  This  was  remarkable  in  regard  to  a man  famed, 
above  everything,  for  his  logical  powers ; and  it  was  remarkable 
that,  with  those  logical  powers,  he  should  have  so  frequently 
arrived  at  wrong  conclusions.  Like  other  men  of  a paradoxical 
habit  of  mind,  he  failed  to  carry  his  high  sense  of  honor  into  his 
relations  with  truth.  There  he  was  slippery  and  unfaith tul, 
while  without  blemish,  and  above  suspicion,  in  what  he  consid- 
ered more  practical  transactions  ; as  if  anything  could  be  so  com- 
prehensively practical  as  a statesman’s  relations  with  the  princi- 
ples of  things.  All  this  was  from  no  deficiency  of  knowledge 
as  to  those  principles.  As  Mackintosh  pointed  out,2  he  had  be- 
come accustomed  to  those  which  were  established  among  men  of 
speculation,  and  his  mind  was  roused  to  combat  them  before  they 
were  brought  under  popular  notice  ; and  in  opposing  them,  he 
opposed  what  was  to  him  established  when  to  the  many  he 
1 Life  of  Wilberforce,  iii.  p.  432.  2 Memoirs,  ii.  p.  60. 


314 


INSANITY  OF  THE  KING. 


[Book  II. 


seemed  to  be  contending  against  innovations.  Hence  his  defence 
of  wliat  was  worn  out,  which  at  once  perplexed  and  delighted 
the  Eldons  and  Percevals  and  Malmesburys,  who  found  in  him 
an  occasional  ally  : a support  never  to  be  reckoned  on.  but  often 
most  welcome.  He  was  a man  of  genius,  a wit,  a scholar  ; but 
no  philosopher.  His  manners  were  full  of  charm,  and  his  con- 
versation as  rich  and  delightful  as  it  was  often  provoking.  He 
was  sure  to  be  remembered  with  admiration,  and  with  as  much 
regret  as  follows  upon  high  admiration  when  its  object  is  gone ; 
but  it  was  not  possible  that  he  should  be  practically  missed  from 
the  ranks  of  statesmanship.  During  his  last  illness,  there  was  a 
crowd  of  inquirers  before  his  door  ; and  his  death  was  the  great 
public  event  of  the  day.  His  praise  was  in  the  mouth  of  all 
who  loved  exquisite  oratory,  and  benevolence  of  heart,  and  high 
grace  of  mind  and  manners  ; but,  if  the  truth  were  known,  per- 
haps no  one  in  parliament  or  in  the  Privy  Council  ever  wished 
him  back  again.  He  was  buried  where  he  was  born,  at  the 
family  seat  at  Felbrigg  in  Norfolk. 

In  the  autumn,  a difficulty  was  on  the  increase,  from  day  to 
day,  with  which  the  feeble  Ministry  knew  that  they  must  soon 
deal  in  some  decisive  manner.  The  failure  of  the  Walcheren 
expedition,  and  the  disgrace  of  his  courtly  favorite,  Lord  Chat- 
ham, had  so  disturbed  the  King’s  mind,  that  he  lost  his  sleep, 
and  his  cheerfulness,  and  such  composure  as  had  been  obtained 
by  extreme  care.  A family  affliction  now,  once  more,  overthrew 
Death  of  the  his  reason*  The  youngest  of  the  Princesses,  Ame- 
Princess  lia,  had,  for  many  years,  been  in  bad  health,  and 
her  disease  was  known  to  be  unconquerable.  It 
was  understood  that  there  were  family  secrets  in  connection  with 
her  which,  in  consideration  for  his  tottering  intellect  and  vehe- 
ment self-will,  had  been  kept  from  his  knowledge  ; and  the  mo- 
ment for  imparting  them  was  that  in  which  he  must  take  leave 
of  his  favorite  child.  Parliament  was  to  have  met  on  the  1st  of 
November ; but,  before  that  time,  it  was  publicly  known  that 
the  circumstances  of  the  royal  family  would  compel  its  proroga- 
insd,nity  of  tion  to  the  29th.  Meantime,  the  King  had  become 
the  King.  wholly  unfit  to  affix  his  signature  to  the  Commission 
who  were  to  prorogue  the  Parliament.  The  parting  interview 
had  quite  overthrown  him  ; and  it  was  a piteous  spectacle  to 
those  present,  when  the  blind  and  feeble  old  man  was  led  to  the 
bedside,  and  his  child  took  his  hand,  and  put  on  his  finger  a ring 
with  a memorial  inscription,  whose  purport  his  heart  could  read, 
though  his  eyes  could  not.  The  Ministers,  in  profound  secrecy, 
summoned  their  supporters,  and  hoped,  by  silence  as  to  what  they 
meant  to  do,  to  avoid  bringing  Opposition  members  up  to  town  ; 
and  in  this  they  succeeded. 


Chap.  III.] 


REPEATED  ADJOURNMENTS. 


315 


On  the  1st  of  November,  the  Lord  Chancellor  informed  the 
Upper  House  that  there  was  no  Royal  Speech  or  Mes-  Meeting  of 
sage,  and  no  Commission  to  open  Parliament.  The  Parliament. 
King  was  ill ; but  likely  to  be  soon  better.1  It  was  a question 
whether,  under  the  circumstances,  a Commission  would  not  have 
been  legal  if  issued  under  the  Great  Seal,  without  the  sign- 
manual  ; but  he  had  not  assumed  the  responsibility  of  proceed- 
ing upon  any  mere  opinion  on  this  point.  He  preferred  laying 
the  matter  before  Parliament  for  its  decision.  In  the  Commons,2 
the  Speaker  addressed  the  hundred  members  present,  saying  that, 
in  the  absence  of  any  Royal  Message  or  Commission,  he  had 
thought  it  his  duty  to  take  the  chair,  in  order  that  the  House 
might  adjourn  itself.  The  Ministers,  in  both  Houses,  anxiously 
explained  that  the  King’s  illness  was  mild  in  character,  and  that 
he  had  obtained  some  sleep ; so  that  the  physicians  had  confident 
hopes  of  a speedy  recovery.  Both  Houses  adjourned  Repeated  ad- 
to  the  15th.  The  Princess  died  the  next  day,  at  a journments. 
time  when  her  father  was  so  composed  that  the  physicians  de- 
cided to  tell  him  the  news  at  once.3  They  told  him  they  were 
going  to  try  his  Majesty’s  piety.  He  replied  that  he  knew  what 
they  meant  ; that  Amelia  was  dead.  He  rambled  and  was 
very  low,  but  was  not  indifferent ; which  was  a good  sign  : and 
he  mentioned  her  again  ; which  was  another : and  the  physicians 
were  more  sanguine  than  before  about  his  recovery.  But  he 
never  was  rational  again.  The  last  heavy  cloud  was  settling 
down  upon  his  intellect.  There  was,  however,  a suspense  of 
weeks  and  months,  equally  embarrassing  to  the  Ministers  and 
to  Parliament.  It  was  difficult  to  extract  from  the  Constitution 
any  guidance  in  circumstances  so  singular  ; and  it  w^as  a for- 
midable matter  to  establish  precedents  for  conducting  the  mon- 
archy without  a monarch.  On  the  question  of  repeated  adjourn- 
ments, the  Opposition  were  divided ; and  without  any  ill-feel- 
ing among  themselves.  It  was  enough,  in  a case  so  unusual,  to 
indicate  that  there  was  vigilance  against  dangerous  precedents. 
That  vigilance  indicated,  men  voted  according  to  their  expecta- 
tions of  the  King’s  recovery  or  continued  insanity.  On  the  15th, 
the  Houses  adjourned  to  the  29th  ; and  on  the  29th,  when  a re- 
port from  the  physicians,4  decidedly  favorable,  was  offered,  in  the 
form  of  a report  from  the  Privy  Council,  a considerable  majority 
decided  for  another  adjournment  to  the  loth  of  December.  When 
that  day  arrived,5  the  Ministers  acknowledged  that  they  had  no 
plea  for  further  delay  in  discussing  how  the  country  was  to  be 
governed.  A committee  was  appointed  to  examine  the  physicians. 

1 Hansard,  xviii.  p.  1.  2 Ibid,  p,  3. 

8 Ward’s  Memoirs,  i.  p.  298.  4 Hansard,  xviii.  p.  78. 

6 Ibid.  p.  120. 


316 


REGENCY.  — THE  PRINCES’  PROTEST.  [Book  II 


Their  report  was  delivered  on  the  20th.  There  was  nothing  in 
it  to  delay  the  pressing  business  of  providing  for  the  carrying  on 
of  the  government. 

On  the  same  day,  therefore,  Mr.  Perceval  proposed  and  car- 
ried three  Resolutions,1  which  declared,  1st,  that  the  King  was 
prevented  by  illness  from  fulfilling  his  royal  functions ; 2d,  that 
it  was  the  duty  of  the  Lords  and  Commons  to  supply  the  exist- 
ing defect  in  the  organization  of  the  government;  and,  3d,  that 
the  Lords  and  Commons  should  determine  on  means  for  giving 
the  necessary  assent  to  bills  respecting  the  powers  to  be  exer- 
cised in  the  King’s  name  and  behalf  during  his  illness.  These 
proposition  Resolutions  were  almost  in  the  same  words  as  those 
of  a regency.  which  had  been  brought  forward  by  Mr.  Pitt,  and 
passed  (with  the  aid  of  Lord  Grenville,  among  others)  in  1788. 
They  were  therefore  sure  to  pass  now,  however  eager  the  Op- 
position might  be  to  bring  the  Prince  of  Wales  into  full  power, 
and  the  Ministry  to  keep  him  out  to  the  last  moment.  On  the 
27th,  the  Resolutions  were  discussed  in  the  Lords,  and  the  two 
first  were  passed  without  a division.  Lord  Holland  moved  an 
amendment  on  the  third,2  to  the  effect  that  the  Prince  of  Wales 
should  be  requested,  by  address,  to  assume  the  powers  and  func- 
tions of  the  Crown,  in  the  King’s  name,  during  the  King’s  pres- 
ent indisposition,  and  no  longer ; an  intimation  being  given,  with 
the  Address,  that  it  would  be  necessary  to  forbear  all  but  strictly 
necessary  state  action,  till  the  Legislature  should  have  settled 
how  all  beyond  it  should  be  provided  for.  This  amendment  was 
negatived  ; and  the  Resolutions  being  thus  agreed  upon,  the  Min- 
isters went  on  to  follow  the  precedent  of  1788,  in  regard  to  the 
next  step ; which  was  to  define  the  powers  to  be  exercised  by  the 
Regent. 

The  proposals  of  the  Ministers,  as  to  the  restriction  of  the 
The  Princes’  powers  of  the  Regent,  were  so  unacceptable  to  the 
protest.  Prince  of  Wales,  that  he  exerted  himself  to  the  ut- 
most — even  to  the  point  of  assembling  his  brothers  to  sign  a 
Protest  — to  overthrow  the  propositions  prepared  for  parliamen- 
tary discussion.3  The  Protest  was  sent  to  Mr.  Perceval,  and 
found  among  the  papers  of  Lord  Eldon.  It  was  dated  midnight 
of  the  19th  of  December  ; but  the  subject  to  which  it  referred 
did  not  come  into  debate  till  the  new  year  had  opened ; and  it  is 
best  to  close  here  the  records  of  the  gloomy  year  1810,  whose 
disasters  seemed  but  too  likely  to  overcloud  many  a year  yet  to 
come. 


1 Hansard,  xviii.  p.  329. 

3 Life  of  Lord  Eldon,  ii.  p.  136. 


2 Ibid.  p.  417. 


Chap.  IV.] 


POWER  OF  THE  REGENT. 


317 


CHAPTER  IV. 

The  opposite  views  and  interests  of  the  Ministerial  and  the 
Grenville  parties  on  the  Regency  question  are  obvious  enough, 
and  seen  in  a moment  to  be  unavoidable.  The  ministers  confi- 
dently hoped  for  the  King’s  speedy  recovery  ; and  their  object 
was  to  give  as  little  power  as  possible,  during  the  short  fixed 
period  of  the  regency,  to  one  whom  they  regarded  as  their  per- 
sonal foe,  and  the  friend  of  their  political  opponents.  The  Op- 
position leaders  expected  to  return  to  power  under  the  Prince, 
and  hoped  to  rescue  the  country  from  the  miserable  misgov em- 
inent under  which  it  was  sinking  to  ruin.  They  were  aware 
that  the  tie  between  the  Prince  and  themselves  had  long  been 
loosening ; they  remembered  that,  since  the  death  of  Fox,  there 
had  been  little  personal  intercourse,  and  that  the  Prince  had 
avowed  his  intention  1 of  ceasing  to  interest  himself  personally  in 
politics  — of  ceasing  to  be,  as  he  said,  u a party  man.”  It  is 
probable  that  they  also  knew  that  he  had  thought  himself  neg- 
lected and  coldly  treated  by  the  Grenville  ministry,  and  not  suf- 
ficiently consulted  about  the  measure  which  caused  their  over- 
throw. Still,  he  was  so  well  aware  of  the  bad  qualities  of  the 
present  ministry,  and  so  much  more  connected  with  the  Gren- 
villes and  the  Greys  than  with  any  other  section  of  the  political 
world,  that  no  one  had  any  doubt  whatever  that  the  Grenville 
and  Grey  ministry  would  be  in  power  at  the  earliest  moment 
that  the  change  could  be  decently  made.  The  Prince  himself 
certainly  intended  this  at  the  opening  of  the  year ; and  a list  of 
the  proposed  administration  was  put  into  the  hands  of  his  in- 
tended ministers,  for  their  consideration.2 

But  the  interposition  of  the  royal  family  in  favor  of  the  Prince, 
as  against  the  Perceval  ministry,  perplexed  the  affair,  and  not 
only  made  Lord  Eldon  excessively  miserable,  but  embarrassed 
the  braver  and  less  selfish  men  with  whom  he  was  connected. 
They  suddenly  found  themselves  left,  at  the  critical  moment,  with 
only  the  Queen  on  their  side,  — all  her  sons  having  gone  over  to 
the  enemy  on  the  great  subject  of  the  power  to  be  given  to  the 
Regent.  “ I am  hardly  in  my  right  mind  upon  what  is  passing,” 
i Life  of  Sheridan,  ii.  p.  384.  2 Memoirs  of  Romilly,  ii.  p.  359. 


318 


THE  REGENCY  ESTABLISHED. 


[Book  II. 


wrote  Lord  Eldon  1 to  his  brother,  in  this  January  ; “ and  when  I 
am  attacked,  day  by  day,  and  every  man  who  was  with  me  in 
administration  in  1804  is  obstinately  holding  silence,  ar  1 the 
whole  royal  family,  whose  protestations  of  gratitude  my  boxes 
teem  with,  are  among  my  enemies,  God  help  me  if  I had  not  the 
means  of  proving  that  I have  nothing  to  fear.”  The  midnight 
protest  of  the  Princes,2  enclosed  to  Lord  Eldon  by  the  Duke  of 
Cumberland  with  “ the  greatest  regret,”  must  have  caused  con- 
sternation to  the  devoted  friend  of  their  father,  declaring,  as  it 
did,  that  the  proposed  restrictions  on  the  Regent  were  “ perfectly 
unconstitutional,”  and  “ subversive  of  the  principles  that  seated 
their  family  on  the  throne  of  these  realms.” 

The  proposed  Restrictions  were  these.  The  term  of  the  re- 
Restrictions  gency  was  to  be  limited  to  the  1st  of  February,  1812, 
on  the  Regent.  SUpp0S]ng  parliament  to  have  been  sitting  for  six 
weeks  previously.3  The  Regent  was  to  consider  his  office  a trust, 
and  to  conform  to  the  statutes  which  regulate  trusts.  He  was 
restrained  from  granting  peerages  (except  for  naval  or  military 
achievements),  or  offices  or  titles  in  reversion  or  abeyance.  The 
Royal  property  was  to  be  vested  in  trustees,  for  the  King’s  ben- 
efit. The  care  of  the  King’s  person  was  to  be  confided  to  the 
Queen,  who  was  to  arrange  his  household:  a Council  being  ap- 
pointed to  advise  and  assist  her  in  her  duties,  with  authority  to 
examine  the  King’s  physicians.  There  were  many,  besides  the 
Princes,  who  objected  to  the  power  being  given  to  the  Queen 
and  her  Council  of  deciding  when  the  King  should  resume  his 
functions,  in  case  of  recovery ; and,  after  much  discussion,  safe- 
guards against  abuse  were  provided  by  an  obligation  to  commu- 
nicate the  state  of  the  King’s  health  to  the  Privy  Council,  and 
thence  to  the  “ London  Gazette.”  On  this  point,  the  Ministers 
were  beaten  in  several  divisions ; and  it  was  clear  that  they  were 
tottering  in  their  seats  at  the  time  that  the  Regency  Bill  passed, 
which  was  on  the  5th  of  February.  On  the  next  day,  the  Royal 
Assent  was  (by  a necessary  fiction)  given  by  a Commission  act- 
ing under  the  authority  of  both  Houses  of  Parliament.4  The 
Prince  took  the  oaths  on  the  same  day  before  the  Privy  Council, 
when  some  close  observers  were  amused  with  watching  the  va- 
rious expressions  in  the  different  countenances.  And  by  this 
time,  there  was  reason  for  much  conflicting  feeling, 

Early  in  January,  the  Prince  sent  for  Lord  Grenville,  and  re- 
Negotiation  quested,  with  every  appearance  of  graciousness  and 
GrenviUcf8  confidence,  that  he  and  Lord  Grey  should  draw  up  for 
and  Grey  him  a reply  to  the  Address  which  the  two  Houses  were 
about  to  present.5  He  proposed  that  his  friend,  Lord  Moira, 

1 Life,  ii.  p.  161.  2 Ibid.  p.  136.  3 Hansard,  xviii.  pp.  1126-1144. 

4 Ibid.  p.  1125.  5 Life  of  Sheridan,  ii.  p.  385. 


Chap.  IV.] 


NO  CHANGE  OF  MINISTRY. 


319 


should  be  joined  with  them  in  the  task  ; but  this  proposal  the 
Whig  Lords  declined.  The  task  was  a difficult  one,  because  Lord 
Grenville  stood  pledged,  by  the  records  of  previous  regency  de- 
bates, to  opinions  widely  different  from  those  of  the  Prince  and 
Lord  Grey.  The  points  of  difference  were  passed  over  with 
vague  phrases,  and  the  paper  was  sent  to  the  Prince  through  Mr. 
Adam,  in  whose  presence  he  read  it.  He  “ strongly  objected  to 
almost  every  part  of  it,”  made  some  curt  marginal  notes,  and  sent 
for  his  boon  companion,  Sheridan.  There  was  no  time  to  be  lost, 
as  the  Addresses  were  to  be  presented  the  next  day.  Sheridan 
proposed  that  a new  Reply  should  be  drawn  up  ; and  he  and  the 
Prince  set  about  it.  At  night,  Sheridan  met  Lord  Grey  at  Hol- 
land House,  and  the  new  paper  was  read,  shown,  with  its  offen- 
sive marginal  notes,  and  warmly  discussed.  The  Prince  adhered 
to  it ; and  on  the  following  day,  Lords  Grenville  and  Grey  trans- 
mitted to  the  Prince  an  indignant  remonstrance  on  his  levity  in 
this  affair,  and  on  the  affront  they  had  received.  Sheridan  used 
his  influence  to  reconcile  the  Prince  to  himself,  and  his  wit  in 
writing  epigrams  and  quizzes  on  the  dignified  personages  who 
had  assumed  a rone  of  dictation  to  the  Regent.  As  might  be  ex- 
pected, the  alienation  of  the  Prince  from  his  former  political 
friends  was  decided ; and  the  new  hope  of  a better  government 
of  the  country  was  extinguished. 

One  of  the  King’s  physicians  had  meantime  been  working  on  the 
mind  of  the  Prince.1  After  having  for  some  weeks  led  the  Prince 
to  believe  that  the  King  could  never  recover,  he  now  gave  him 
exaggerated  accounts  of  the  improvement  in  health  of  which  the 
newspapers  were  beginning  to  speak ; and  he  intimated  that  if, 
on  recovery,  the  King  should  hear  of  a change  of  Ministry,  he 
might  probably  die  of  the  news.  An  artful  letter  of  flattery  and 
coaxing  was  also  sent  by  the  Queen,  communicating  sayings  of 
the  King,  which  she  could  not  have  really  known,  as  she  had  not 
seen  him.  The  Prince  acutely  conjectured  this  letter  to  be  Per- 
ceval’s, as  the  lawyer-like  word  “ pending  ” appeared  in  it,  — a 
word  which  the  Queen  was  the  last  person  likely  to  use.  It  pro- 
duced upon  him,  however,  an  effect  which  concurred  but  too  well 
with  his  existing  feeling  towards  Lords  Grenville  and  Grey  ; and 
on  the  1st  of  February,  he  announced  to  Lord  Grenville,  by  let- 
ter, his  decision  to  leave  the  Ministry  substantially  unchanged.2 
The  next  day,  the  leading  Whigs  waited  upon  him  at  Carlton 
House,  and  found  that  he  was  indeed  determined.  The  streets 
were  full  of  people,  anxious  to  hear  the  latest  reports  of  the 
King’s  health,  on  which  mainly  the  important  decision  was  sup- 
posed to  hang ; and  clusters  of  Opposition  members  were  on  the 
pavement,  questioning  their  acquaintance  as  they  left  Carlton 
1 Memoirs  of  Romilly,  ii.  p.  360.  2 Ward’s  Memoirs,  i.  p.  377. 


320  REMONSTRANCE  OF  CIVIC  OFFICERS.  [Book  II. 

House.  On  the  f>th,  after  taking  the  oaths,  the  Regent  wrote  to 
The  min-  Mr.  Perceva^  to  say  what  everybody  was  expecting, 

istry  un-  He  said  it  in  an  ungracious  manner,  as  everybody 

changed.  Perceval  thought ; but  he  was  too  well 

pleased  to  admit  any  uncomfortable  feelings.  He,  as  his  friend 
Ward  tells  us,  “ was  not  of  that  opinion,’’  though  the  wording  of 
the  announcement  was  this  : 1 “ The  irresistible  impulse  of  filial 
duty  and  affection  to  his  beloved  and  afflicted  father  leads  him  ” 
(the  Prince)  “ to  dread  that  any  act  of  the  Regent  might,  in  the 
smallest  degree,  have  the  effect  of  interfering  with  the  progress 
of  his  sovereign’s  recovery,  and  that  this  consideration  alone  dic- 
tates the  decision  now  communicated  to  Mr.  Perceval.”  No  as- 
surances of  physicians  had  nearly  so  much  effect  in  preparing  the 
public  to  expect  the  King’s  recovery  as  this  letter ; for,  as  every- 
body said,  the  Prince  could  not  so  ill  discharge  his  new  duty  as 
to  retain  in  power  a Ministry  which  he  thought  bad  for  the  coun- 
try, if  he  believed  that  he  had  really  time  and  power  to  change 
it.  Among  those  who  were  not  disposed  to  acquiesce  in  the  Re- 
gent’s decision  were  the  civic  officers  of  the  metropolis.  They 
went  home  discontented,  and  soon  presented  to  his  Royal  High- 
ness, by  the  hands  of  the  Lord  Mayor  and  Aldermen,2  an  Ad- 
dress of  great  boldness,  in  which  were  set  forth  the  miseries 
resulting  from  the  misgovernment  t>f  the  country,  the  popular 
discontent  at  the  conduct  of  Ministers  in  carrying  on  the  govern- 
ment in  the  King’s  name,  when  he  was  incapacitated,  and  at  the 
restrictions  laid  on  the  Regent,  and  the  absolute  need  of  reform 
of  parliament,  in  order  to  rescue  the  people  from  ruin.  In  his 
reply,  the  Prince  prudently  dwelt,  to  the  exclusion  of  almost 
everything  else,  on  the  joy  he  should  feel  in  the  act  of  rendering 
up  his  office  to  the  King,  on  the  blessed  occasion  of  his  Majesty’s 
recovery. 

It  was  rumored,  at  the  time,3  that  when  Sheridan  went  to  Lord 
Holland’s,  in  Pall-Mall,  to  discuss  the  rival  replies,  the  Prince 
stole  thither  too,  disguised  in  a large  cloak.  It  was  said  that 
Mr.  Peel  saw  him  issue  from  the  gates  of  Carlton  House,  and 
recognizing  him,  observed  him  till  he  entered  Holland  House. 
It  was  also  said  that  the  Prince  then  again  offered  the  govern- 
ment to  the  offended  lords ; and  that  it  was  the  representation 
of  the  physician  before  alluded  to  which  held  them  back;  and 
this  seems  to  be  confirmed  by  the  clear  declaration  of  the  “ Morn- 
ing Chronicle,”  that  they  might  have  had  office  if  they  would. 
It  is  certain  that  the  Prince  declared  openly  that  he  would  never 
see  the  Ministers  he  was  compelled  to  retain.  He  would  dine 
with  his  old  comrades,  but  never  with  his  Ministers ; and,  what- 

i Annual  Register,  1811,  p.  8.  2 Ibid.  p.  11. 

8 Life  of  Canning,  p.  284. 


Chap.  IV.J  PROPER  OPENING  OF  PARLIAMENT. 


321 


ever  anybody  might  say,  he  would  have  Sheridan,  and  Adam, 
and  Lord  Moira,  and  other  Whigs,  about  him  to  consult  with, 
under  any  circumstances.  Of  course,  he  was  told  that  this  would 
be  impossible ; and  of  course,  the  contradiction  roused  his  self- 
will.  He  was,  however,  as  feeble  and  fickle  as  he  was  self-willed. 
In  a few  months  1 we  find  the  Queen  and  Lord  Eldon  congratu- 
lating each  other  and  the  world  on  the  Prince  having  succeeded 
to  the  government,  under  circumstances  which  enabled  him  to  de- 
tect “the  horrible  falsehoods  with  which  wicked  politicians  had 
filled  his  mind ; ” and,  as  the  Queen  expressed  it,  which  enabled 
her  son  George  to  learn  that  his  poor  father  knew  better  who 
were  his  son’s  best  friends  than  that  son  himself  did.  “ At  pres- 
ent,” wrote  Lord  Eldon  at  that  time,  “ many,  I believe,  think  he 
is  too  much  attached  to  me.”  He  certainly  was  ; and  there  was 
little  to  be  hoped  from  a man  who,  at  fifty,  could  turn  from  a 
Grenville  and  a Grey  to  enjoy  the  flattery  of  an  Eldon,  and  per- 
mit the  cant  which  called  the  best  friends  of  his  life,  and  men 
whose  honor  was  too  lofty  to  bend  at  the  most  critical  moment  of 
their  career,  “ wicked  politicians.” 

There  was  now  an  end  of  the  irregularities  and  fictions  in  the 
carrying  on  of  the  government,  which  all  deplored  as  dangerous 
and  perplexing,  but  which  could  not,  by  any  means,  be  helped. 
There  was  a vast  deal  of  debate,  and  very  properly,  about  each 
irregularity  and  fiction  as  it  arose ; but  everything  was  settled 
at  last ; and  the  cases  in  dispute  are  sufficiently  recorded  in  the 
chronicles  of  the  time.  It  is  enough  to  say  that  there  was  diffi- 
culty about  calling  parliament  together,  at  first ; and  then  about 
appointing  a royal  commission ; and  then  about  the  method  of 
drawing  money  for  appropriations  voted  in  the  preceding  session, 
— the  auditors  declining  to  justify  accounts  and  draw  money, 
without  full  assurance  of  the  legality  of  their  proceedings ; and 
then,  Parliament  hesitating  before  the  unconstitutional  act  of  as- 
suming executive  power.  Then,  when  the  conditions  of  the  re- 
gency were  determined,  it  was  necessary  to  open  parliament  in 
form,  by  a commission  under  the  Great  Seal,  sanctioned  by  the 
authority  of  that  very  parliament  which  was  supposed  not  to 
have  been  sitting ; and  lastly,  when  the  Regency  Bill  was  passed 
by  the  two  Houses,  it  received  a nominal  Royal  Assent  from  the 
very  personage  whose  incapacity  to  assent  was  the  ground  of  the 
Bill.  Everybody  was  glad  when  these  solemn  shams  were  over, 
and  when  parliament  was,  for  the  third  time,  opened  properopen_ 
in  regular  form,  on  the  12th  of  February.  The  Re-  ing  of  par- 
gent  did  not  go  down  in  person,  but  by  Commission  ; 2 llament- 
and  the  Speech  was,  as  nearly  as  possible,  what  it  would  have 
been  if  sent  down  by  his  father.  The  universal  remark  was,  that 
i Life  of  Lord  Eldon,  ii.  p.  245.  2 Hansard,  xyiii.  p.  1140. 

VOL.  i.  21 


322 


THE  REGENT'S  FETE. 


[Book  II. 


these  were  clear  indications  of  his  being  on  bad  terms  with  the 
Ministers.  He  intended  to  be  a mere  mechanical  Regent,  at 
least  for  the  short  original  term  of  the  regency. 

He  relaxed  from  his  moodiness  as  the  year  went  on ; and  be- 
The  King’s  fore  it  was  half  over,  the  conviction  was  general  that 
health.  his  office  would  last  as  long  as  the  life  of  the  King. 
In  May,  the  people  in  the  streets  supposed  that  the  King  was 
getting  better,  as  he  appeared  on  horseback  with  his  daughters. 
After  some  rumors,  the  fact  was  made  known  in  Windsor  that 
one  of  the  equerries  had  ordered  the  King’s  saddle-horse  to  be 
got  ready ; and  the  multitude  who  flocked  to  the  Castle  saw  the 
favorite  horse  Adonis  actually  brought  out.  The  King  pres- 
ently appeared,1  conversing  cheerfully  with  two  of  the  princesses, 
mounted  his  horse  with  ease,  and  rode  for  more  than  an  hour, 
without  any  appearance  of  eccentricity.  But  at  that  very  time, 
the  Duke  of  York  was  writing  to  Lord  Eldon  of  the  imbecility 
into  which  his  father  appeared  to  be  sinking.2  His  talk  was 
hopelessly  rambling  and  frivolous.  In  July,  the  bulletin  of  the 
physicians  declared  his  general  health  to  be  much  strengthened, 
without  any  corresponding  improvement  in  his  mind.  The  phy- 
sicians declared  that  they  did  not  yet  despair  of  his  ultimate  re- 
covery ; but  before  the  expiration  of  the  term  of  the  regency, 
they  had  nearly  dropped  the  subject  of  their  hopes.  He  under- 
stood that  the  Duke  of  York  had  been  reinstated  in  his  office  of 
Commander-in-Chief,  and  rejoiced  in  it ; and  he  was  aware  of 
the  regal  fete  given  by  the  Regent  in  June,  in  lieu  of  the  ordi- 
nary festival  of  the  King’s  birthday ; but,  while  these  events  ex- 
cited his  feelings,  they  brought  out  no  evidence  of  improving  rea- 
son. He  must  henceforth  be  considered  as  excluded  from  Court 
affairs  ; and  the  Court  proceeded  on  that  understanding.  The 

Regent’s  fete,  given  on  the  plea  of  encouraging  British 

TI10  Court  ^ ^ * l ^ ^ ^ 

manufactures  at  a time  of  appalling  distress,  was 
declared  to  be  the  most  splendid  ever  seen  in  England ; and  its 
splendor  did  more  harm  to  the  feelings  of  the  starving  poor  than 
good  by  the  small  consequent  reduction  of  the  manufacturer’s 
stock.  It  was  made  a sort  of  demonstration  against  Napoleon 
by  Louis  XVIII.  and  the  French  Princes  being  brought  to  it, 
out  of  their  retirement ; but  the  people  would  have  preferred  an 
opposite  kind  of  action  — the  repeal  of  the  Orders  in  Council,  to 
which  much  of  their  distress  was  owing.  When,  on  the  expira- 
tion of  the  first  term  of  the  regency,  the  Prince  desired  to  have 
Lord  Sidmouth  in  his  Cabinet,  as  President  of  the  Council, 
Lord  Sidmouth  made  it  a positive  stipulation  that  the  Orders 
should  be  suspended ; 8 and,  as  will  soon  appear,  for  sufficient 

i Annual  Register,  1811.  Chron.  57.  2 Life  of  Lord  Eldon,  ii.  p.  174. 

3 Life  of  Lord  Sidmouth,  iii.  p.  85. 


Chap.  IV.] 


CHANGES  IN  THE  CABINET. 


323 


reason.  This  was  done,  as  regarded  the  United  States,  in  June, 
1812,  too  late  to  prevent  war  with  America,  but  with  the  imme- 
diate effect  of  raising  the  spirits  of  a population  whose  sufferings 
had  passed  the  limit  of  endurance.  Before  that  time,  the  Queen 
had  once  more  held  a Court,  after  an  interval  of  nearly  two  years  ; 
and  the  thronging  of  ladies  to  St.  James’s  was  a signal  that  the 
recovery  of  the  King  was  no  longer  to  be  hoped  for.  Another 
such  signal  was  the  provision  made  for  the  Princesses  by  parlia- 
ment in  April,  1812.  They  were  endowed  with  36,000/.  a year 
by  the  nation,1  as  their  father  could  no  longer  take  care  of  them. 
The  King  had  been  empowered  to  grant  30,000/.  a year  to  the 
four  daughters  living  with  him.  In  a time  of  excessive  distress, 
Mr.  Perceval  asked  for  36,000/.  for  three  who  survived.  He 
obtained  it ; but  at  a cost  of  strong  popular  displeasure.  And, 
while  he  was  thus  recklessly  profuse  to  royal  ladies,  the  cause  of 
liberty  and  security  throughout  the  world  was  perilled  by  the 
withholding  of  support  from  the  army  in  Spain ; as  we  shall  here- 
after see. 

As  the  year  1811  drew  towards  its  close,  the  nation  looked 
anxiously  for  the  disclosure  of  what  the  Regent  meant  More  over- 
to  do  about  a Ministry,  on  occasion  of  the  prolonga-  tures- 
tion  of  his  power.  The  Regent  himself  regarded  “ the  present 
extraordinary  crisis  ” as  “ a new  era  ” in  his  life.2  He  said  so  in 
a letter  to  the  Duke  of  York,  which  he  empowered  the  Duke  to 
show  to  Lord  Grey,  and  which  immediately  became  public.  In 
this  letter,  he  largely  praised  his  present  Ministers,  but  ex- 
pressed his  desire  that  some  of  those  persons  among  whom  the 
early  habits  of  his  public  life  were  formed,  would  strengthen  his 
hands,  and  constitute  a part  of  his  government.  Lords  Gren- 
ville and  Grey  replied,  that  their  opinions  remained  unchanged, 
as  to  the  absolute  necessity  of  conciliating  Ireland  by  the  repeal 
of  the  Catholic  disabilities ; and  that  their  first  duty  in  office 
would  be  to  propose  a measure  to  that  effect.  As  the  existing 
Ministry  were  all  of  the  opposite  mode  of  thinking,  no  union  was 
possible ; and  the  Regent  looked  elsewhere  for  strength  to  his 
Cabinet.  Marquess  Wellesley  now  resigned  his  office  of  Foreign 
Secretary,  in  which  he  was  succeeded  by  Lord  Cas-  Lords  Cas_ 
tlereagh.  Lord  Sidmouth  became  President  of  the 
Council ; and  Mr.  Perceval  was  in  the  highest  spirits  the  govern- 
at  the  dreaded  period  being  so  well  got  over  — the  ment- 
period  of  the  entrance  of  the  Regent  upon  the  possession  of  full 
kingly  power  — without  any  material  change  of  councils.  He 
and  his  comrades  had  escaped  the  disgrace  of  dismissal,  and  of  a 
reversal  of  their  policy.  It  was  true  that  the  nation  was  unhappy 
— the  working  classes  starving  and  rebellious ; the  Corporation 
1 Hansard,  xxii.  p.  450.  2 Annual  Register,  1812,  p.  329. 


324 


VIRTUAL  CLOSE  OF  THE  REIGN.  [Book  IL 

of  London  discontented  and  indignant ; Ireland  threatening  a vi- 
olent secession  from  the  Union ; and  Napoleon  yet  unchecked 
abroad : it  was  true  that  our  armies  in  the  Peninsula  were  so  ill 
supported  that  the  best  man  in  the  Cabinet  had  resigned,  in  dis- 
gust at  the  treatment  our  best  general  was  receiving  from  gov- 
ernment ; and  that,  out  of  the  Cabinet,  scarcely  any  one  saw  a 
gleam  of  hope  within  the  whole  compass  of  the  political  horizon : 
still,  Perceval  was  as  obtuse  and  sanguine  as  ever,  and  in  higher 
spirits  than  ever,  on  ascertaining  that  the  new  monarch  was  of 
his  party,  and  ready  to  renew  his  lease  of  power.  The  political 
blindness  here  was  obvious  to  all  clear-sighted  men  at  the  mo- 
ment. A few  weeks  changed  their  natural  indignation  into  a 
respectful  compassion  for  his  innocent  human  blindness. 

This  must  be  considered  the  close  of  the  reign  of  George  III. 
virtual  Instead  of  the  funeral  pomp  of  kings,  there  was  the 
close  of  the  gay  pageantry  of  opening  parliament.  Instead  of  the 
reign‘  unsealing  of  the  tomb  where  the  weary  one  might  rest, 
there  was  the  intimation  that  he  was  imprisoned  in  a living  grave. 
Instead  of  the  solemnity  of  a Proclamation  and  Coronation,  there 
was  a mere  striking  off  of  fetters  from  the  new  ruler,  who  had 
no  fresh  style  and  title  for  heralds  to  shout  abroad.  But  not  the 
less  was  the  reign  of  George  III.  closed ; and,  though  silently,  it 
was  effectually  put  away  among  the  records  of  history.  It  was, 
in  fact,  a reign  of  the  last  century,  and  subject  only  to  the  judg- 
ment appropriate  to  the  deeds  of  a by-gone  age ; for,  during  the 
few  years  of  the  present  century,  his  habits  of  mind  had  merely 
become  confirmed,  while  his  intellect  was  weakening.  It  had 
not  been  a good  reign ; neither  honorable  to  himself,  nor  glorious, 
in  any  sense,  for  the  national  reputation,  nor  promotive  of  the 
happiness  of  his  people.  But  few  were  disposed,  at  the  time  of 
its  virtual  close,  to  deal  strictly  with  him  for  it.  His  position 
was  an  appeal  for  forbearance.  The  time  might  come  when  he 
would  be  angrily  represented  as  gone  to  that  place  where  bad 
kings  congregate,  and  suffer  their  retribution ; but  at  present  he 
was  regarded  as  an  outcast  from  both  worlds  of  judgment,  and 
wandering  comfortlessly  between  them.  If  he  had  passed  beyond 
the  reach  of  remonstrance  and  censure,  he  had  not  arrived  at  the 
region  of  retribution ; and  those  who  had  suffered  under  his  rule 
strained  their  eyes  to  see,  in  his  environment,  cause  for  compas- 
sion, if  not  forgiveness.  Now  and  then,  but  rarely,  a glimpse 
was  caught  of  his  state.  He  was,  very  properly,  kept  in  total 
seclusion,  within  a range  of  apartments  at  Windsor.  As  he  was 
soon  totally  blind,  such  seclusion  was  no  penalty  to  him.  Room 
for  exercise  was  all  that  he  could  enjoy  ; and  that  he  had.  We 
see  him,  after  a time,  through  the  eyes  of  a casual  witness,  walk- 
ing in  the  corridor,  dressed  in  a warm  wrapping-gown,  with  long 


Chap.  IV.]  PREVALENCE  OF  WANT  AND  CRIME. 


325 


white  beard,  and  his  sightless  eyes  rolling  restlessly ; and  again, 
at  the  piano,  striking  some  chords,  or  playing  some  melody  of 
his  beloved  Handel.  We  hear  of  him  as  being  within  sound  of 
the  funeral  train  which  was  about  to  lay  in  the  grave,  that  still 
refused  to  open  for  him,  the  body  of  his  grand-daughter  — the 
heiress  of  his  crown;  yet  unconscious  of  the  calamity  which 
touched  every  heart  in  the  empire  but  his  own  — unmoved  even 
to  inquire  the  meaning  of  the  trumpets,  and  the  solemn  music, 
and  the  tread  of  horses  and  of  human  feet.  He  lived  thus  for 
eight  years  after  the  assumption  of  full  power  by  the  Regent ; 
and  not  till  his  funeral  torches  had  burned  out,  did  men  feel  dis- 
posed to  pass  judgment  on  his  life  and  reign  : and  when  they  did, 
it  was  in  the  softened  tone  which  men  would  naturally  use  in  the 
presence  of  a ghostly  image  of  a helpless  old  man,  with  sightless 
eyes,  and  a snowy  beard  upon  his  breast. 

Mr.  Perceval’s  high  spirits  continued.  The  war  with  America 
was  on  the  point  of  breaking  out.  Dukes  and  earls  Mr.  Perce- 
were  forbidding  the  appearance  of  pastry  at  their  vaL 
tables,  and  ordering  rice  flour,  on  account  of  apprehended  famine. 
Men  were  hanged  in  rows  and  detachments  for  rebellion. 
Whole  families  were  murdered,  by  ruffian  thieves,  in  a single 
quarter  of  an  hour ; and  citizens,  worn  by  anxiety  through  the 
day,  gave  up  their  nightly  rest,  and  formed  themselves  into  a 
patrol,  to  save  their  families.  Yet  Mr.  Perceval’s  spirits  did  not 
sink  in  the  least.  At  a dinner-party  at  his  own  house,  in  April, 
his  guests  “ never  saw  him  in  a more  bantering  humor  ; ” 1 and 
his  daughter  told  how  he  had  promised  his  children  to  give  a ball 
“ when  he  had  made  a general  peace  which  the  whole  nation 
should  approve.” 

While  these  merry  doings  were  going  forward,  there  was  a 
man  dining,  two  or  three  times  a week,  at  the  coffee-room  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  and  hanging  about  the  lobbies  and  galleries 
till  his  face  became  familiar  to  persons  who  had  business  there. 
The  face  was  an  interesting  one  ; “ strikingly  composed  and  mild, 
though  haggard,”  Wilberforce  tells  us.  The  man’s  appearance 
wTas  that  of  a gentleman ; and  the  people  at  whose  house  he 
lodged  found  him  kind-hearted  and  considerate.  On  one  of  these 
days,  a little  child  of  his  landlady’s  had  strayed  away  ; 2 and  the 
lodger  exerted  himself  to  recover  it.  On  the  morning  of  the 
11th  of  May,  he  took  the  family  to  the  European  Museum,  and 
pointed  out  to  them  what  they  ought  to  observe.  He  had  a wife 
and  children  himself,  he  told  them,  and  they  lived  at  Liverpool. 
He  had  been  four  months  away  from  them,  trying  to  get  justice 
for  some  cruel  wrongs.  Those  wrongs  were  inflicted  in  Russia, 
where  he,  a merchant  connected  with  Archangel,  had  been 
1 Ward’s  Memoirs,  i.  p.  476.  2 Annual  Register,  1812.  Chron.  p.  72. 


326 


ASSASSINATION  OF  MR.  PERCEVAL.  [Book  II. 


calumniated  and  imprisoned.  His  hostess,  while  listening  to  his 
quiet  narrative,  with  his  pathetic  countenance  before  her,  never 
dreamed  of  his  being  insane,  and  of  the  Russian  prison  having 
been,  in  fact,  a lunatic  division  of  the  establishment.  But  so  it 
came  out  to  be,  after  his  death.  He  said  that  his  own  govern- 
ment ought  to  have  righted  him  ; but  that  it  had  offensively  re- 
fused to  aid  him.  After  the  visit  to  the  European  Museum,  he 
went  into  the  Court  of  Chancery  for  some  time,  and  then,  as 
usual,  to  the  House ; and  there  he  placed  himself  in  the  recess 
of  the  doorway  of  the  lobby,  standing  with  his  right  hand  in  his 
breeches-pocket.  Lord  Eldon  was  wont  to  say  that  he  was  the 
person  watched  for 1 — the  stranger  having  hung  about  his  Court 
just  before  ; but  the  man  himself  said  that  he  most  wished  to 
encounter  Lord  George  Leveson  Gower,  our  late  Ambassador  to 
Russia.  It  was  Mr.  Perceval,  however,  who  first,  of  all  his  sup- 
posed enemies,  appeared  at  the  door.  The  hand,  with  a small 
pistol  in  it,  was  drawn  from  the  pocket,  and  Perceval  was  shot 
through  the  heart.  He  staggered  forward,  muttered 
His  death.  word  “ murder  ” or  “ murdered,”  and  died  in  ten 

minutes.  While  some  of  the  members  present  raised  him,  and 
carried  him  into  an  adjoining  room,  others  looked  round  for  the 
murderer,  who  had  been  unmarked,  and,  in  the  confusion,  might 
easily  have  escaped.  He  walked  to  the  fire,  laid  his 
e mg  am.  pjgt(q  on  a bench,  and,  on  being  asked  whether  he  was 
the  villain,  replied, 44 1 am  the  unhappy  man.”  As  soon  as  it  was 
known  that  he  was  Mr.  Bellingham,  an  unfortunate  merchant 
and  ship-broker  of  Liverpool,  there  were  offers  of  evidence,  to 
be  brought  from  Liverpool,  of  his  long-existing  insanity.  It  is 
scarcely  credible  now  that  this  should  have  been  refused ; and  it 
appears  sad  that  communication  with  Liverpool  should  have  been 
too  slow  to  save  the  poor  man’s  life.  If  railroads  and  electric 
telegraphs  had  existed  then,  not  all  the  indecent  haste  of  the 
authorities  could  have  taken  away  his  life ; for  the  evidences  of 
his  insanity  were  unquestionable.  He  knew,  as  he  said,  from 
the  first  what  his  fate  would  be.  He  assigned  nothing  like  a 
reason  for  shooting  Mr.  Perceval : there  was  no  connection 
pointed  out  by  him  between  his  wrongs  and  the  act  of  murder ; 
yet  he  spoke  and  felt  as  if  the  connection  had  been  obviously 
close  and  logical.  He  was  not  proud  or  vain  of  what  he  had 
done  ; but  calmly  satisfied  that  it  was  not  wrong.  He  shed  tears 
when  his  victim’s  last  moments  were  described,  but  still  felt  that 
all  was  as  it  should  be.  The  authorities  wondered  extremely ; 
but  they  did  not  pause.  It  seems  as  if  their  precipitation  was 
caused  by  alarm  at  the  reception  of  the  news  by  a portion  of 
tha  mob,  whom  they  supposed  to  be  a representation  of  the  peo- 
1 Life,  ii.  p.  203. 


Chap.  IV.]  HASTY  EXECUTION  OF  A LUNATIC. 


327 


pie  at  large.  The  first  crowd  in  Palace  Yard  was  composed  of 
respectable  people  whose  feelings  were  evidently  human,  and  not 
political.  Horror  and  concern  were  in  every  countenance.  But 
presently  the  pickpockets  began  to  arrive,  and  to  try  to  make 
confusion,  for  the  sake  of  their  own  harvest.  Then  came  flock- 
ing (on  the  news  reaching  the  remoter  parts  of  London)  all  who 
most  intensely  hated  the  government,  and  supposed  that  it  must 
now  be  overthrown.  Romilly  relates  that  savage  cries  of  exul- 
tation were  heard,1  with  lamentations  that  other  members  of  the 
government  had  not  been  murdered  also.  Some  of  the  fero- 
cious rabble  mounted  the  hackney-coach  which  was  brought  to 
convey  Bellingham  to  Newgate  ; and  others  kept  possession  of 
the  opposite  door,  as  if  for  the  purpose  of  rescue ; so  that  he  was 
sent  away  through  another  entrance.  Romilly,  sick  at  heart, 
said  that  the  most  lively  alarms  must  be  excited  by  such  demon- 
strations in  the  minds  of  all  thinking  men  ; and  that  the  English 
character  seemed  to  have  undergone  some  unaccountable  and  por- 
tentous change.  If  Romilly  was  so  impressed,  it  is  no  wonder 
that  the  authorities  were  wholly  dismayed,  and  full  of  the  vin- 
dictiveness which  attends  dismay ; and  in  this  spirit  they  hurried 
on  the  trial. 

It  actually  took  place  before  an  answer  could  be  received  by 
return  of  post  to  the  earliest  intimation  to  the  family  of  what 
had  happened.2  Mr.  Perceval  was  shot  soon  after  five  in  the 
afternoon  of  Monday  ; and  the  trial  came  on  on  the  F riday,  at 
the  Old  Bailey.  Bellingham  was  hanged  on  the  following  Mon- 
day. His  body  was  in  the  fcands  of  the  surgeons  for  dissection, 
“ the  heart  still  faintly  beating,”  before  a week  was  over  from  the 
moment  in  which  he  took  his  stand  in  the  recess  of  the  doorway. 
He  was  42  years  of  age.  Insanity  had  existed  in  his  family  be- 
fore ; 3 and  a son  of  his  who,  with  the  rest  of  the  family,  had 
changed  his  name,  and  who  had  successfully  studied  for  the 
medical  profession,  became  deranged  as  he  approached  his  father’s 
time  of  life,  and  was  restrained  as  a lunatic.  It  is  strange  that 
the  government  did  not  see  that  their  best  policy  was  to  receive 
every  possible  evidence  that  the  act  was  that  of  a madman,  in- 
stead of  a political  foe.  But  the  madness  was  dangerous,  and  the 
man  was  extinguished. 

The  morning  after  the  murder,  measures  were  taken  to  secure 
from  the  nation  a provision  for  Mr.  Perceval’s  family.  The 
family  was  a large  one  ; but  the  provision  made  was  out  of  all 
proportion  to  their  needs,  and  fearfully  vexatious  to  a suffering 
people,  ill  able  now  to  brook  such  selfish  profusion  at  their  ex- 
pense. One  item  after  another  was  added  by  comrade  or  friend, 

1 Memoirs,  iii.  p.  35.  2 Ibid.  p.  36. 

8 Pictorial  History,  viii.  p.  500  ( note ). 


328  MR.  PERCEVAL'S  FAMILY.  [Book  II. 

in  the  course  of  the  debate,  till  the  grant  mounted  up  to  this  : 1 
— 50,000/.  for  the  children  ; 2000/.  a year  to  their 
fbr°Mr!°n  mother,  — this  2000/.  per  annum  to  revert  to  the 
Perceval’s  heir  on  the  death  of  the  widow,  to  be  enjoyed  by  him 
for  life  ; and  1000/.  a year  for  life  to  the  eldest  son, 
on  his  coming  of  age.  When  this  grant  was  made,  no  one 
dreamed  of  the  destination  which  awaited  a part  of  this  mon- 
strous provision.  In  the  shortest  possible  time  that  decency 
would  permit,  Mr.  Perceval’s  widow  married  again,2  leaving 
regret  in  many  minds  that  no  stipulation  had  been  made  for  the 
return  to  the  treasury,  in  such  an  event,  of  the  income  which 
had  been  intended  as  an  endowment  of  her  widowhood. 

The  great  question  of  the  formation  of  a Ministry  was  thus 
brought  up  again.  Before  proceeding  to  detail  the  negotiations, 
we  must  see  what  those  had  to  do  who  undertook  to  govern  the 
country  in  1812. 


i Hansard,  xxiii.  pp.  243-247. 


2 Life  and  Times  of  George  IV.  p.  385, 


Chap.  V.] 


COMMERCIAL  PRESSURE. 


329 


CHAPTER  V. 

Nothing  had  been  seen,  since  the  beginning  of  the  century, 
to  compare  with  the  distress  of  1811  and  1812.  The  foreign 
commerce  of  the  country  was  in  a lower  condition  in  state  of  the 
1811  than  ever  before  in  the  memory  of  those  living.  nation- 
Statesmen  talked,  and  not  unreasonably,  of  the  renewal  of  our 
commerce  with  Portugal,  in  consequence  of  the  expulsion  of  the 
French  ; and  of  the  improvement  of  our  trade  with  Brazil,  from 
the  establishment  of  the  Braganza  family  there.  They  pointed 
to  Russia,  now  rousing  herself  to  resist  Napoleon,  and  promised 
that  the  ports  of  the  Baltic  would  soon  be  reopened  to  British 
manufacturers.  All  this  was  true  ; yet  never  had  our  commerce 
been  so  depressed.  Our  manufacturers  were  set  fast,  and  could 
not  pay  wages  on  which  their  workmen  could  live  ; and  workmen 
could  not  live  on  low  wages  when  the  average  price  of  wheat 
was  1125.  and  that  of  meat  Sd.  and  9 d.  per  lb.  The  ordinary 
course  of  manufacture  — particularly  of  the  hardware  manufac- 
ture — was  broken  up.  The  factor  stepped  in  between  the  em- 
ployer and  the  operative,  and  made  his  market  of  the  necessities 
of  both,  leaving  them  discontented  with  each  other.  The  em- 
ployer sold  off  his  stock  at  a loss  ; and  the  workmen  made  infe- 
rior wares,  by  means  of  advances  from  the  factor  for  materials. 
The  wares  were  smuggled  abroad,  or  sent  wherever  a new  com- 
mercial opening  appeared ; and  the  reputation  of  some  of  our 
manufactures  was  fatally  damaged  by  these  reckless  and  ruinous 
proceedings. 

In  April,  1811,  the  necessity  for  parliamentary  relief  to  the 
merchants  had  become  urgent.  It  was  not  money  that  commercial 
was  deficient  now,  as  in  former  seasons  of  distress,  but  Pressure- 
security  on  which  money  could  be  obtained.  It  was  not  so  much 
banking  credit  that  had  collapsed  as  mercantile  credit.  It  was 
believed  by  the  best  economists  of  the  time  that  a large  immedi- 
ate advance  to  the  merchants  and  manufacturers,  which  should 
enable  them  to  await  the  approaching  opening  of  some  foreign 
ports,  would  be  a safe  and  a wise  measure  — however  deplorable 
the  necessity  in  itself.1  Parliament  authorized  an  advance  of  not 
more  than  6,000,000/.  on  adequate  security.  As  usually  hap- 
1 Hansard,  xix.  p.  496. 


330 


STRANGE  SEASONS. 


[Book  II. 


pens  in  such  cases,  only  a small  part  of  the  sum  was  called  for, 
— in  this  case,  not  above  2,000,000/.  The  knowing  that  it  could 
be  had  was  the  thing  wanted.  At  the  same  time,  there  were 
symptoms  of  revival  of  business  from  foreign  demand ; but,  on 
the  other  hand,  there  were  fears  about  the  harvest.  The  preced- 
strange  ing  winter  had  been  intensely  cold ; snow  had  choked 

seasons.  up  the  maii  roads,  and  buried  thousands  of  sheep 

among  the  hills,  and  lain  heavy  on  the  hearts  of  thousands  of 
weary  families  who  were  already  chilled  with  hunger,  and  could 
no  more  buy  fuel  than  they  could  clothe  themselves  in  furs.  The 
Thames  was  very  nearly  frozen  over,  that  winter.  The  spring 
was  backward  ; and  then  the  heats  came  rushing  on,  with  more 
disastrous  effect  than  the  storms  of  winter.  The  meadows  were 
parched  up  before  any  grass  had  been  obtained  ; the  springs  ran 
dry.  Church  towers  were  struck  by  lightning,  and  the  bells 
melted.  Cattle  and  men  were  found  scorched  in  the  fields  ; and 
if  a fire  occurred,  there  was  no  putting  it  out.  In  Prussia,  miles 
of  woodland  were  left  in  a few  hours  strewed  with  ashes  ; and 
in  the  Tyrol,  the  conflagration  of  the  forests  proceeded  from  league 
to  league,  till  64  villages  and  10,000  head  of  cattle  were  de- 
stroyed.1 24,000  peasants  were  turned  out  to  be  scorched  by  the 
sun  at  noon,  and  drenched  by  the  dews  at  night ; and  a multitude 
of  them  died  in  a few  weeks  by  an  epidemic  thus  occasioned. 
Everywhere  the  harvest  was  deficient ; and  in  England  the  aver- 
age price  of  wheat  became  1065.  8 d.  The  superstitious  were 
more  and  more  apprehensive,  as  time  brought  added  distresses, 
that  the  nation  was  under  the  wrath  of  God  ; and  in  the  early 
days  of  September,  many  believed  there  was  no  further  doubt 
that  the  end  of  the  world  was  at  hand.  A sign  appeared  in  the 
sky,  which  to  them  seemed  to  show  that  Napoleon  was  the  last 
great  enemy  of  the  race,  and  that  the  day  of  judgment  was  come. 
A comet,  like  none  that  they  had  seen  or  heard  of,  wheeled  rap- 
idly up  the  sky.  The  learned  and  the  wise  enjoyed  the  spectacle, 
as  the  vast  new  light  arose  in  the  still  autumn  evenings,  half  as 
large  as  the  moon,  with  its  broad  train  of  light  streaming  down 
to  the  horizon ; but  the  rude  and  the  timid  could  not  lift  up  their 
heads  to  gaze  at  it.  Here  and  there,  a man  stood  up  in  church 
or  chapel,  warning  sinners  to  repent,  and  the  righteous  to  stand 
fast  for  death,  as  the  day  of  the  Lord  was  at  hand.  Others  were 
preaching  at  the  corners  of  the  streets,  and  in  lanes,  and  on  the 
hill-side  : and  among  the  hearers  were  some  who  were  almost 
glad  to  be  told  the  tidings  ; for  they  were  worn  out  with  misery, 
and  the  grave  is  a place  where  “ the  weary  are  at  rest.”  But, 
before  the  clouding  over  of  the  sky  for  winter,  the  sign  had  passed 
away,  and  the  day  of  judgment  had  not  come.  Instead  of  this,  the 
1 Annual  Register,  1811.  Chron.  88. 


Chap.  V.] 


WAGES. 


331 


wicked  were  more  rampant  than  ever.  As  the  days  shortened, 
midnight  murder  terrified  those  who  had  not  been 
alarmed  before.  On  the  night  of  the  9th  of  December,  yrimes’ 
the  entire  household  of  a Mr.  Marr  was  murdered  within  a quarter 
of  an  hour,1  — himself,  his  wife,  their  infant  in  the  cradle,  and  the 
shop-boy  under  the  counter;  and  on  the  19th,  the  entire  house- 
hold of  a Mr.  Williamson  was  butchered  in  the  same  manner. 
Such  scenes  of  violence  went  forward  in  different  parts  of  the 
country,  that  many  began  to  be  of  Romilly’s  opinion,  that  the 
English  character  had  undergone  some  unaccountable  and  por- 
tentous change. 

Portentous  these  horrors  were,  but  not  unaccountable.  Many 
soldiers  had  become  weary  of  the  war,  which  to  them  had  been 
thus  far  all  hardship  and  no  glory.  They  deserted.  They  could 
not  show  themselves  at  home,  the  penalty  for  desertion  being 
death.  They  gathered  together  in  gangs,  took  possession  of 
some  forsaken  house  among  the  hills,  or  of  caves  on  the  sea- 
shore, and  went  forth  at  night  in  masks  and  grotesque  clothing, 
and  helped  themselves  with  money  and  clothes,  wherever  they 
could  find  them,  sacrificing  life  where  it  was  necessary  to  their 
objects.  In  these  times  of  dear  food,  the  salaries  of 
clerks  and  other  persons  valuable  from  their  filling  Wages* 
situations  of  trust,  were  doubled,  to  enable  them  to  hold  their 
place.  Artisans  too  had  high  wages  from  those  who  could  af- 
ford to  employ  them.2  We  find  that  those  who  were  employed 
at  Greenwich  Hospital  were  at  this  time  receiving  from  30s.  to 
35s.  per  week,  — a mere  subsistence  at  such  a season  of  high 
prices  ; but  still  a subsistence.  But  those  whose  services  were 
not  immediately  wanted  sank  in  proportion.  In  the  factories, 
there  was  no  increase  of  wages ; and  where,  through  dread  of 
the  despair  of  the  people,  there  was  a nominal  rise  of  wages,  it 
was  usually  compensated  for  by  a reduction  of  the  hours  of  labor. 
The  fate  of  the  hand-loom  weavers  appears  to  have  been  the  hard- 
est. In  1806,  they  had  felt  themselves  badly  off  with  175.  6d. 
a week  ; and  now  they  had  only  7s.  6d.  This  was  at  Glasgow  ; 
but  it  was  a season  of  extreme  pressure  with  spinners  and  weav- 
ers throughout  the  manufacturing  districts  of  England.  It  was 
no  consolation  to  them  to  be  told  that  their  depression  could  not 
be  helped,  because  their  labor  had  been  displaced  by  machinery. 
At  this  date,  one  person  could,  with  the  help  of  machinery,  spin 
as  much  cotton  as  200  persons  could  have  spun  in  the  same  time 
when  the  sufferers  were  setting  out  in  life  ; and  in  weaving,  a pro- 
portionate supersession  of  labor  had  taken  place.  Wise  men  knew 
that  this  machinery  would,  in  a few  years,  employ  many  times 

1 Annual  Kegister,  1811.  Chron.  138,  141. 

2 Porter’s  Progress,  ii.  pp.  251-254. 


332 


PRISONERS  OF  WAR. 


[Book  II. 


more  than  the  number  of  persons  at  first  turned  adrift : but  this 
truth  did  not  feed  those  who  were  hungering  now ; and  it  is  no 
wonder  that  their  misery  avenged  itself  on  the  machinery  which 
was  doing  their  work,  and,  as  they  declared,  stealing  their  bread. 
A gleam  of  moral  light  at  such  a time  is  too  precious  to  pass 
away  unnoticed  ; and  it  must  therefore  be  mentioned  that,  in  this 
dreary  year,  when  the  whole  west  of  Scotland  was  in  a wretched 
condition,  the  poor  weavers  of  Hamilton  refused  to  receive  alms, 
and  desired  to  work  for  their  bread.1  A subscription  had  been 
raised  for  the  unemployed  ; but  they  would  not  touch  it  till  they 
had  earned  it.  A foot-path  from  Hamilton  to  Bothwell  bridge 
was  therefore  made ; and  the  honorable  weavers  kept  their 
honor.  They  little  knew  how  they  had  thus  beautified  that  foot- 
path to  many  that  should  come  after  them. 

We  find,  at  the  same  time,  notices  of  an  extreme  jealousy  of 
imported  imported  labor,  and  of  the  success  of  certain  strikes, 

labor.  The  tillage  of  Lincolnshire  was  then  beginning  that 

course  of  improvement  which  has  made  its  levels  now,  from 
being  mere  fen,  one  of  the  richest  districts  of  England.  The 
laborers,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Boston,  expected  to  make  u half 
a guinea  a day  ” during  the  harvest,  and  to  keep  the  corn  in  the 
fields  till  their  limited  supply  of  labor  could  carry  it  in.  We 
find,  in  a Boston  newspaper,  a notice  of  Irish  reapers,  as  a sort 
of  novelty,  in  that  year.  The  farmers  are  vindicated  for  bring- 
ing them  in  to  expedite  the  harvest,  and  to  keep  down  wages  ; 
while  the  native  laborers  are  severely  rebuked  for  maltreating 
the  strangers,  and  exhorted  to  observe  towards  them  “ the  sacred 
obligations  of  hospitality,”  and  the  regard  due  to  benefactors  of 
the  district.  We  find  broad  hints  given  about  the  expense  of 
Prisoners  the  French  prisoners  in  the  country,  and  accounts 

°f  war.  spread  abroad  of  the  very  different  arrangement  in 

F ranee,  where  our  imprisoned  countrymen  were  drafted  into  bat- 
talions, to  be  employed  on  the  fortifications,  and  the  roads  and 
bridges.2  The  cases  were  widely  different,  — the  deficiency  in 
France  being  of  able-bodied  men,  and  here  of  the  means  of  liv- 
ing ; and,  while  so  many  of  our  own  people  could  not  find  em- 
ployment, government  did  not  venture  to  bring  the  foreigners 
out  into  the  daylight,  and  set  them  to  work.  The  consequence 
was  a perpetual  series  of  attempts  at  escape,  troublesome  and  ex- 
pensive to  the  authorities,  but  romantic  to  read  of  now.  The 
accumulation  of  prisoners,  in  both  countries,  had  become  very 
burdensome;  and  much  more  so  to  England  than  to  France,  as 
the  French  in  this  country  were,  for  the  most  part,  private  sol- 
diers ; while,  of  the  comparatively  few  English  in  France,  very 
many  were  of  respectable  families,  who  had  crossed  the  Channel 

1 Annual  Register,  1811.  Chron.  38.  2 Decree.  Paris,  March,  1811. 


Chap.  V.] 


SUCCESSFUL  STRIKES. 


333 


on  business  or  for  pleasure  during  the  Peace  of  Amiens,  and 
were  then  detained  by  the  barbarous  policy  of  Napoleon.  His 
Spanish  and  Portuguese  prisoners,  however,  made  his  number  of 
captives  much  more  than  equal  to  ours  ; and,  in  1810,  it  had  been 
hoped  that  he  was  ready  to  rid  himself  of  them.  There  were 
then  about  50,000  French  prisoners  with  us ; and  not  above 

10.000  British  in  France.  The  Spanish  in  France  were  scarcely 
fewer  than  the  French  with  us;  and  the  Portuguese  about 
12,000.  An  exchange  was  negotiated;  and  many  sunk  hearts 
beat  high  with  the  expectation  of  freedom,  and  a native  home, 
in  a few  weeks  or  days.  But  Napoleon  insisted  that  for  every 
three  Frenchmen  should  be  given  — not  three  British  subjects, 
but  one  British,  and  two  Spanish  or  Portuguese.  To  this  our 
government  would  not  consent ; 1 and  the  exiles  sank  down  again 
into  heart-sickness.  The  gentry  strolled  about  the  country  towns, 
and  played  billiards,  to  while  away  the  time ; and  the  soldiers 
earned  their  living,  and  some  indulgences,  by  labor  on  the  public 
works.  As  for  the  French  on  Dartmoor,  and  at  Stilton,  and 
other  stations,  they  made  their  rations  of  bread  into  savory  soup, 
by  some  wonderful  process,  and  carved  their  meat-bones  into 
whirligigs  and  curious  toys,  which  many  a man  now  living  re- 
members as  one  of  the  marvels  and  mysteries  of  his  childhood. 
They  must  still  go  on  to  make  toys,  if  anything ; for  the  starv- 
ing working  men  of  England  would  admit  no  foreigners  to  share 
of  any  useful  labor  which  presented  itself  to  be  done. 

The  strikes  which  were  successful  at  such  a period  as  this 
were,  of  course,  confined  to  the  very  few  occupations  that  were 
flourishing.  Weaving  and  spinning  were  sunk  too  low  for  even 
this  poor  resource  ; but  we  find  the  journeymen  tailors  in  an 
opulent  state,  supporting  four  strikes  for  an  increase  of  wages,2 
within  seven  years,  and  succeeding  in  them  all.  They  had 
money  in  the  Bank  for  the  assistance  of  operatives  in  other  trades, 
throughout  the  country.  The  making  of  fire-arms  was  another 
prosperous  branch  of  employment — no  more  affected  than  that 
of  the  tailors  by  the  decline  of  foreign  commerce,  while  the  war 
lasted  for  which  they  supplied  the  appurtenances.  While  they 
were  thus  earning  and  enjoying  the  good  things  of  life,  Parlia- 
ment was  looking  grave  over  a petition  for  relief,  signed  by  above 

40.000  “ distressed  manufacturers  of  Manchester,”  who  were  but 
a sample  of  the  sufferers  of  their  class  throughout  the  kingdom. 
Sir  Robert  Peel,  the  father  of  the  rising  statesman  just  con- 
nected with  the  Ministry,  said  that  no  time,  since  the  present 
state  of  society  had  existed,  had  ever  witnessed  such  distress  as 
that  now  under  notice.3  He  said  that  he  was  in  a condition  to 

1 Hansard,  xx.  p.  623.  2 Annual  Register,  1811.  Chron.  p.  11. 

8 Hansard,  xx.  p.  339. 


334 


FRAME-BREAKING. 


[Book  II. 


speak  positively  as  to  the  facts  ; and  all  his  hearers  knew  that 
he  was  so.  None  of  them,  after  that,  could  be  much  surprised 
at  the  methods  that  the  operatives  took  to  prevent,  as  they 
thought,  their  labor  from  being  superseded  by  machinery.  It 
was  not  eighteen  months  since  Mr.  Peel  had  said 
Machinery.  ^at  England  had  continued  flourishing,  while  foreign 
countries  were  decaying;  and  that  “the  only  alteration  had 
been  the  substitution  of  machinery  for  manual  labor.”  If,  now, 
the  tens  of  thousands  of  distressed  petitioners  had  been  asked 
what  they  thought  of  the  one  only  “ alteration,”  they  would 
have  pronounced  it  the  cause  of  all  their  woes.  They  could  see 
nothing  beyond  it ; and  they  would  not  believe  that  more  fatal 
mischiefs  lay  behind  it- — obvious  to  those  who  stood  on  the 
high  ground  of  science,  but  concealed  from  the  lowly  whom  no 
one  had  yet  undertaken  to  teach.  Their  next  move  was  one 
which  might  have  been  expected,  under  the  circumstances. 

It  was  just  at  the  most  trying  part  of  1811,  in  November,  that 
the  hosiers  of  Nottingham  had  been  obliged  to  discharge  many 
of  their  workmen.  These  men  saw  nothing  before  them  but  the 
workhouse  ; and,  at  the  same  time,  they  knew  that  a certain 
wide  frame,  of  a new  construction,  which  could  produce  twenty- 
four  dozen  gaiters  per  week,  at  45.  the  dozen,  making,  was  em- 
ployed by  a firm  in  Nottingham,  and  likely  to  be  used  by  others. 
They  knew  that  nearly  30,000  hosiery  frames 1 were  in  use  in 
England,  at  that  time ; being  such  an  increase  as  they  were  not 
disposed  to  allow.  A new  lace-frame  had  been  patented  two 
years  before,  which  benefited  their  town  and  their  neighbors,  by 
almost  superseding  the  manufacture  of  pillow-lace,  which  had 
hitherto  supported  thousands  in  Devonshire,  Bedfordshire,  and 
other  counties.  They  could  not  reason  from  the  one  case  to 
the  other ; they  were  in  no  mood  for  reasoning  at  all ; and  be- 
sides, the  lace-weavers  were  themselves  in  distress.  One  No- 
vember Sunday  they  stood  in  groups,  in  the  market-place  and 
the  streets  of  Nottingham,  stirring  up  one  another’s  wrath,  and 
consulting  what  they  should  do.  A manufacturer  at  Bulwell 
Frame-  heard  that  they  meant  to  come  and  break  his  frames  ; 
breaking.  and  he  gave  out  that  he  should  arm  his  workmen,  and 
barricade  his  house.2  He  did  so,  on  the  Monday  evening.  A 
body  of  rioters  came,  and  demanded  that  the  frames  should  be 
given  up  to  them,  or  that  they  should  be  let  in  to  break  the  frames 
for  themselves.  The  owner  refused  both  propositions,  and  was 
fired  upon.  Several  shots  were  exchanged,  and  a weaver,  who 
was  tearing  down  the  window-shutters,  was  shot  dead.  His  com- 
rades carried  off  his  body,  and  presently  returned  with  an  addi- 

1 Porter’s  Progress,  i.  pp.  244,  245. 

2 Annual  Register,  1811.  Chron.  p.  129. 


Chap.  V.] 


RAVAGES  OF  THE  LUDDITES. 


335 


tion  to  their  force.  They  burst  in  ; and  the  family  barely  escaped 
by  a back  door.  The  rioters  burned,  not  only  the  frames,  but 
everything  in  the  house. 

Above  thirty  years  before  this  time,  an  imbecile,  named  Ned 
Lud,  living  in  a village  in  Leicestershire,  was  tormented  by  the 
boys  in  the  street,  to  his  perpetual  irritation.  One  day,  in  a great 
passion,  he  pursued  one  of  the  boys  into  a house,  and,  being  un- 
able to  find  him,  he  broke  two  stocking-frames.  His  name  was 
now  either  taken  by  those  who  broke  frames,  or  was  given  to 
them.  When  frames  were  broken,  Lud  had  been  there  ; and  the 
abettors  were  called  Luddites  — a name  of  great  terror  for  two 
years  from  this  November,  1811. 

On  the  Tuesday,  the  rioters  waylaid  a carrier,  broke  the  iron 
part  of  the  frames  he  was  conveying,  and  burned  the  wooden 
part  in  the  street.  In  the  night,  they  destroyed  the  greater  part 
of  the  frames  in  a whole  village.  On  Wednesday,  they  did 
much  more,  being  still  unopposed,  to  any  effectual  purpose. 
They  assembled  in  open  day ; and  destroyed  not  only  fifty-three 
frames,  but  a corn-mill.  From  this  time,  they  swore  vengeance 
in  the  first  place  against  millers  and  corn-dealers.  It  was  only 
on  the  Thursday  that  the  magistrates  began  “ to  think  of  decisive 
measures;”  and  no  application  reached  the  Home  Office  till  Fri- 
day morning.  On  the  Sunday,  when  Nottingham  was  filled  with 
the  local  militia,  and  a detachment  of  cavalry  was  posted  in 
the  market-place,  it  was  given  out  that  “ tranquillity  was  entirely 
restored.”  In  Nottingham  it  might  be  so,  for  the  moment ; but 
the  country  round  knew  nothing  of  tranquillity  for  many  a long 
month  afterwards.  Small  parties  incessantly  dropped  down  be- 
fore the  doors,  wherever  there  was  a frame,  and,  having  demol- 
ished it,  disappeared  before  any  alarm  could  be  given.  Such 
practices  are  as  contagious  as  autumn  fever.  Before  the  close 
of  the  year,  the  disturbances  had  spread  into  Derbyshire  and 
Leicestershire,  though  Nottingham  remained  the  head-quarters 
of  the  insurrection. 

There  was  a law  against  frame-breaking,  which  rendered  the 
offenders  liable  to  transportation  for  fourteen  years  ; Luddite 
but  it  contemplated  only  the  destruction  of  hosiery  acta- 
frames  — not  those  used  in  the  lace  and  other  manufactures.  On 
the  14th  of  February,  Mr.  Secretary  Hyder  introduced  a Bill  i 
rendering  capital  the  offence  of  destroying  all  machinery  used  in 
manufactures.  He  also  proposed  to  revive  the  operation  of  the 
existing  law,  which  empowered  the  county  authorities  to  obtain 
lists  of  all  the  male  inhabitants  above  the  age  of  twenty-one, 
for  the  purpose  of  selecting  a sufficiency  of  special  constables, 
for  the  keeping  of  the  peace.  The  Bills  passed  the  Commons 
1 Hansard,  xxi.  p.  807. 


336 


BYRON  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  LORDS.  [Book  II. 


within  a week.  The  debate  in  the  Lords,  on  the  second  read- 
ing, is  chiefly  interesting  to  us  now  as  having  given  occasion  to 
the  only  speech  in  parliament  of  Lord  Byron,  who  was  then 
young,  and  a new  member  of  the  legislature.  When  he  took 
his  seat,  he  would  not  ask  any  peer  of  any  party  to  introduce 
him  properly ; 1 and  no  one  knew  he  was  coming ; yet  he  was  as 
pale,  with  mortification  and  anger,  as  if  he  had  been  purposely 
neglected.  A friend  who  was  with  him  caused  the  Chancellor 
to  be  informed  of  his  presence  ; and  Lord  Eldon,  always  kind 
and  courteous  on  such  occasions,  left  the  woolsack,  went  up  to 
him,  and  offered  his  hand,  which  was  all  but  rejected.  The 
moody  young  man  declared  to  his  friend  that  he  did  not  choose 
to  be  set  down  as  belonging  to  any  party.  He  would  have  noth- 
ing to  do  with  any  of  them ; he  had  taken  his  seat,  and  he  would 
go  abroad.  He  did  so  ; but  was  back  again  before  this  debate.2 
His  speech  was  a very  able  one  in  its  way  — a strong  pleading 
for  the  famishing  operatives  ; but  it  was  mistimed,  very  factious 
in  its  spirit,  and  violent  in  its  language.  It  was  unpractical, 
because  it  arraigned  the  policy  of  the  government  at  the  wrong 
moment,  and  called  for  “ conciliation  ” as  the  reward  of  violence 
against  society.  It  ended  with  the  declaration  that,  to  convict  a 
frame-breaker,  it  would  be  necessary  to  have  “ twelve  butchers 
for  a jury,  and  a Jeffreys  for  a judge.”  And  here  ends  the  brief 
record  of  the  parliamentary  life  of  Lord  Byron.  The  Bills  passed 
in  March.  Before  that  time,  the  insurrection  had  spread  through 
Lancashire  and  Cheshire,  and  the  West  of  Yorkshire  ; and  the 
second  Bill  was,  consequently,  so  far  altered  as  to  extend  its  pro- 
visions to  the  whole  country. 

During  that  terrible  winter  and  spring,  lights  were  burning, 
Progress  of  and  watchers  were  sitting  up  every  night,  in  all 
Luddism.  houses  in  any  way  connected  with  manufactures.  The 
method  of  the  insurgents  was  to  send  a party  of  about  fifty  men 
to  a village ; to  post  sentinels  in  every  avenue,  and  proceed  in 
silence  to  their  work.  It  was  done  with  surprising  quietness  ; 
houses  forced  and  frames  broken  almost  without  noise.  When 
every  frame  in  the  place  was  broken,  or  when  an  alarm  of  the 
approach  of  the  soldiery  was  given,  the  leader  fired  his  piece,  and 
his  comrades  dispersed  — so  skilfully  and  rapidly  that  few  were 
ever  taken.  They  could  destroy  a frame  in  one  minute,  after  a 
few  weeks’  practice.  When  any  one  of  them  was  in  danger  of 
capture,  at  any  time  or  place,  he  shouted,  “ Ned  Lud,”  and  a 
party  of  rescuers  were  instantly  on  the  spot.  They  passed 
through  crowds  in  a compact  body,  with  masks  on  their  faces, 
and  not  a hand  was  raised  against  them.  A picket  of  a hundred 
men,  headed  by  magistrates,  paraded  the  streets  of  Nottingham 
1 Dallas’s  Recollections,  pp.  51-54.  2 Hansard,  xxi.  p.  966. 


Chap.  V.]  TERRIBLE  INCREASE  OF  CRIME. 


337 


every  night ; but  they  could  find  nothing  to  do.  The  destruc- 
tion went  on,  as  if  the  special  constables  had  been  all  asleep  in 
their  beds.  Militia,  Bow  Street  officers,  infantry,  and  hussars, 
were  equally  useless.  The  device  of  wearing  soldiers’  great- 
coats saved  many  a party  of  rioters  from  being  stopped.  Pres- 
ently, incendiarism  began  ; and  Manchester  mills  were  burned 
down.  Then,  Huddersfield,  Leeds,  and  Bradford  were  in  up- 
roar, and  cloth-mills  were  emptied,  night  by  night.  Household 
furniture  was  destroyed  ; and  the  proprietors  were  tied  together, 
naked,  and  thrown  upon  the  floor.  ' Some  offenders,  left  wounded, 
were  found  to  be  unconnected  with  manufactures,  — a collier 
here,  a tinner’s  apprentice  there.  By  April,  they  were  storming 
the  depots  of  the  local  militia,  and  helping  themselves  with  arms. 
The  leaders  now  appeared  in  women’s  clothes,  and  were  called 
Ned  Lud’s  wives.  Potato  cellars  were  cleared  ; flour  shops  were 
pillaged  ; mail-coaches  were  stoned,  because  they  sometimes  car- 
ried soldiers  or  police.  Somewhat  later,  the  public  was  shocked 
by  the  news  that  two  wounded  rioters  near  Leeds  were  found  to 
be  — the  one  a clergyman’s  son,  the  other  a member  of  the  Hali- 
fax militia.  It  was  no  longer  an  affair  of  mere  frame-breaking. 
Dead  bodies  were  found  in  ditches,  and  half-covered  in  the 
woods.  Some  towns  began  to  be  short  of  provisions,  as  the  farm- 
ers were  afraid  to  go  to  market.  In  the  night  of  the  30th  of 
April,  the  streets  of  Nottingham  were  placarded  with  bills,  offer- 
ing a reward  for  the  delivery  of  the  Mayor,  dead  or  alive,  to  the 
Luddites.  Mr.  Horsfall,  an  eminent  manufacturer  of  Hudders- 
field, was  fatally  shot,  from  behind  a wall,  by  four  men,  who 
were  awaiting  him  ; and  Mr.  Trentham,  of  Nottingham,  met  the 
same  fate.  When  it  was  discovered  that  a bounty  of  51.  5s .,  and 
a salary  of  15s.  a week,  were  pressed  upon  the  local  militia  by 
Luddite  delegates,  seven  regiments  were  sent  down  in  one  week 
to  the  disturbed  districts.  It  was  next  discovered  that  parties 
of  United  Irishmen  had  been  brought  over,  to  administer  the 
oaths  of  the  Luddites  ; and,  from  that  time,  the  seizure  of 
arms  became  a leading  feature  of  Luddite  business.  A work- 
ing man,  mistaken  for  another,  and  recognized  only  at  the  last 
minute,  was  taken  to  the  edge  of  an  old  coal-pit,  to  be  hurled 
down  ; and  thus  was  disclosed  a new  and  horrible  method  of 
murder.  Several  offenders  were  taken ; but  no  one  of  them 
could  be  induced  to  make  any  confession,  or  give  any  informa- 
tion. At  the  trials,  before  a Special  Commission  at  Chester,  in 
May,  sixteen  were  condemned  to  death,  of  whom  five  were 
executed ; eight  were  transported,  and  others  imprisoned ; but 
no  one  of  them  opened  his  lips  upon  Luddism.  In  the  summer, 
the  assizes  were  continued  by  adjournment,  that  no  suspense 
might  ensue  on  the  capture  of  rioters.  By  that  time,  corn  was 
vol.  i.  22 


338  SEDITION  DISCUSSED  IN  PARLIAMENT.  [Book  II 


becoming  scarce,  and  flour  was  selling  at  the  unheard-of  price  of 
75.  a stone.  At  Sheffield,  the  populace,  in  irresistible  numbers, 
visited  the  flour-dealers,  and  compelled  them,  under  threats  of 
burning  their  premises,  to  sign  an  engagement  to  sell  their  flour 
at  3s.  a stone.  Nobody,  at  that  time,  could  keep  any  article 
made  of  lead.  Pumps,  waterspouts,  church-roofing,  were  car- 
ried off  in  the  night,  to  make  Luddite  bullets.  Men  almost 
doubted  whether  they  could  be  living  in  England  — merry  old 
England  — while  they  had  to  lead  such  a life.  In  June,  eight 
persons  were  hanged  together  at  Manchester,  for  Luddite  of- 
fences. 

By  that  time,  Lord  Sidmouth  had  entered  upon  the  office  of 
Lord  Sid-  Home  Secretary ; an  appointment  winch  was  a great 
mouth  Home  misfortune  to  the  country  — both  at  the  moment,  and 
Secretary.  for  many  years  afterwards.  The  sensitiveness,  vanity, 
and  narrow  views  of  this  Minister  have  been  apparent  through- 
out the  narrative  of  his  transactions,  since  the  beginning  of  the 
century  ; but  now,  other  qualities  appeared,  in  his  new  office  — 
somewhat  to  the  surprise  of  his  own  adherents.  His  tenacity, 
alternating  with  indecision,  they  were  aware  of ; but  no  one  knew 
how  hard  he  could  be  till  now.  His  flatterers  told  him  he  was 
firm  and  resolute  in  “ crushing  sedition  ; ” and  his  predominant 
idea,  for  the  rest  of  his  official  existence,  was  “ crushing  sedition.’' 
The  multitude  — which  means  much  more  than  the  populace  — 
thought  him  a cruel  minister ; and  so  he  was.  He  did  not  mean 
to  be  cruel.  Few  people  ever  do.  Incompetency  and  vanity, 
acting  upon  a complete  set  of  prejudices,  made  him  one  of  the 
harshest  of  tyrants,  while  he  was  sitting,  with  a mild  countenance, 
by  his  own  fireside,  gently  folding  his  hands,  and  talking  about 
his  duty,  and  blandly  compassionating  all  misery  that  came  ac- 
tually before  his  eyes.  He  went  on  crushing  sedition  in  such  a 
manner  that  there  was  always,  while  he  remained  at  the  Home 
Office,  sedition  to  be  crushed.  There  has  been  very  little  since. 

One  of  the  first  incidents  that  occurred  after  Lord  Sidmouth’s 
acceptance  of  his  new  office  was  the  sending  of  a Royal  Message 
to  Parliament,1  commending  to  their  attention  the  disturbed  state 
a ....  of  the  inland  counties.  Lord  Sidmouth  moved  the 

Sedition  dis-  0 r. 

cussed  in  answer  to  the  Message,  and  procured  a Secret  Lom- 
Parhament.  mittee  for  £}ie  reception  of  evidence,  and  consultation 
upon  it.  Through  Lord  Castlereagh,  a similar  Committee  was 
obtained  in  the  other  House.  The  Bill  which  was  proposed,  in 
consequence,  was  the  occasion  of  very  painful  and  discreditable 
debate ; each  party  in  parliament  charging  its  opponents  with 
being  the  cause  of  the  insurrection.  The  Ministerial  party  com- 
plained of  inflammatory  publications,  and  the  popular  tendency  to 
1 Hansard,  xxiii.  p.  795. 


Chap.  V._, 


PUNISHMENT  OF  LUDDITES. 


339 


sedition.  The  Opposition  members  ascribed  the  tumults  to  want, 
and  the  want  to  misgovernment ; and  they  were  not  careful  to 
conceal  their  disgust  at  the  spy  system  of  the  Home  Office,  which 
was  sure  to  excite  more  sedition  than  it  could  ever  put  an  end 
to.  The  Bill,  which  became  law  before  the  end  of  July,  was  of 
a temporary  character,  — its  expiration  being  fixed  for  the  25th 
of  the  next  March.1  Its  objects  were  to  facilitate  the  discovery 
and  collection,  by  the  authorities,  of  concealed  arms ; to  provide 
for  the  instant  dispersion  of  tumultuary  assemblies ; and  to  give 
the  magistrates  of  the  disturbed  counties  a concurrent  jurisdic- 
tion, that  offenders  might  no  longer  escape  by  crossing  the  boun- 
dary between  two  counties.  At  the  very  time  of  the  final  dis- 
cussion of  this  Bill,  on  which  the  attention  of  the  whole  country 
was  fixed,2  a gang  of  fifty  armed  insurgents  were  pursuing  their 
practices  of  extortion,  intimidation,  and  destruction,  in  Hudders- 
field, though  the  thirty-three  public-houses  in  the  town  were 
crowded  with  soldiers,  to  the  number  of  thirty  in  each.  The 
government  insisted,  during  every  pause  of  a few  days,  that  they 
had  exterminated  Luddism ; and  then  occurred  a new  outrage 
to  perplex  them.  This  went  on,  though  with  longer  pauses,  and 
a decided  decrease  of  violence,  to  the  end  of  the  year. 

In  November,  a Special  Commission  was  issued  for  the  trial 
of  such  Luddites  as  had  been  lodged  in  York  Castle ; Punishment 
and  a government  agent  was  sent  down,  to  select  such  of  the  Lud- 
cases  as  were  most  likely  to  end  in  conviction,  in  d,tes’ 
order  to  impress  the  people  with  a sense  of  the  inevitable  retri- 
bution of  the  law ; inevitable,  except  by  the  extension  of  that 
mercy  which  it  was  proposed  to  accord  to  some  who  were  less 
guilty,  and  more  under  the  power  of  leaders,  than  those  who  were 
to  take  their  trial.  On  the  9th  of  January,  1813,  three  men 
were  hanged  in  irons  at  York,  for  the  murder  of  Mr.  Horsfall ; 
and  on  that  day  week,  fourteen  others  were  executed  at  the  same 
place  for  Luddite  offences.3  Seven  suffered  first ; and  within 
two  hours,  the  other  seven.  There  were  soldiers  enough  pres- 
ent to  overawe  the  vast  multitude  assembled  ; and  an  extraordi- 
nary silence  prevailed.  By  degrees,  the  military  were  with- 
drawn from  the  country  districts. 

A long  pause  now  ensued,  occasioned  at  first,  no  doubt,  by  the 
stringency  of  the  new  measures,  but  mainly  attributable  to  the 
plentiful  harvest  of  1813,  and  the  renewal  of  commercial  inter- 
course with  the  Continent.  In  August,4  the  price  of  wheat  had 
fallen  from  121$.  to  1125.  6c?.;  and  by  December,  it  was  745. 
11c?.  ; the  distress  being  transferred  from  the  manufacturing  to 
the  agricultural  classes.  Food  had  not  been  so  cheap  since  May, 

1 Hansard,  xxiii.  p.  967.  2 Annual  Register,  1812.  Chron.  p.  109. 

8 Ibid.  1813.  Chron.  p.  6.  4 M’Culloch’s  Commercial  Dictionary,  p 399 


340 


A BRIEF  SEASON  OF  ORDER. 


[Book  II. 


1808.  The  adversity  of  the  farmers  took  effect  on  the  country 
banks,  which  had  doubled  their  number  since  the  beginning  of 
the  century.  In  1814  and  the  two  following  years,  240  out  of 
700  country  banks  stopped  payment;1  and  this  crash,  in  its  turn, 
involved  the  manufacturing  interest ; and  Luddism  recommenced, 
as  might  be  expected.  Throughout  the  summer  of  1814,  Not- 
tingham was  again  the  centre  of  violence  and  alarm.2  Frame- 
breaking, incendiarism,  and  occasional  murder  recurred,  and 
Lord  Sidmouth  was  again  busy  crushing  sedition.  He  would 
have  found  it  harder  work,  but  for  the  peace,  which  infused  hope 
into  all  hearts  that  good  times  were  coming.  A bevy  of  foreign 
potentates,  and  other  “ illustrious  strangers,”  were  in  London  that 
summer,  stimulating  the  holiday  mood  of  the  people.  There  is 
something  striking  to  the  reader  of  the  records  of  the  time,  in  the 
tone  of  surprise  with  which  the  good  order  of  the  multitude  is 
spoken  of.  The  congratulatory  tone  adopted  shows  how  firmly 
associated  were  then  the  ideas  of  gatherings  of  the  people  and 
lawless  purposes.  It  was  not  for  long,  however,  that  govern- 
ment could  compliment  “ the  lower  orders  ” on  their  peaceable 
behavior.  Lord  Sidmouth’s  biographer  3 speaks  of  that  brief  sea- 
son of  order  as  a short  lull,  during  which  he  can  indulge  his  read- 
ers with  other  topics  than  that  disaffection  which,  though  “ now 
silenced,  was,  unhappily,  not  subdued.” 

1 M’Culloch’s  Commercial  Dictionary,  p.  70. 

2 Annual  Register,  1814.  Chron.  pp.  30,  31,  37,  85,  92. 

8 Life,  iii.  97. 


Chap.  VI.  1 SIR  ARTHUR  WELLESLEY’S  TASK. 


341 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  result  of  the  national  consultations  in  parliament,  after 
the  catastrophe  of  Sir  John  Moore’s  expedition,  was  that  the 
Peninsular  War  should  be  persevered  in.  There  was  peninsular 
much  regret  that  the  expelled  troops  had  been  brought  War- 
home,  instead  of  being  transferred  to  Lisbon  or  Cadiz.  It  was 
considered  to  be  a needless  flattery  of  the  enemy,  and  a needless 
discouragement  to  ourselves,  to  have  thus,  for  even  the  shortest 
time,  abandoned  the  struggle.  It  was  indeed  for  a very  short 
time.  On  the  22d  of  April,  1809,  Sir  Arthur  Welles-  sir  a.  Wei- 
ley  landed  at  Lisbon,  with  men  and  means  for  enter-  key- 
ing on  a campaign.  He  was  welcomed  at  Lisbon,  as  if  the  in- 
habitants had  foreseen  what  would  be  the  result  of  this  landing ; 
as  if  they  had  known  that  he  would  not  want  his  ships  again  till 
he  should  be  at  Calais,  returning  home  after  the  pacification  of 
Europe.  He,  perhaps,  of  all  the  multitude  assembled  that  day 
in  the  streets  of  Lisbon  — of  all  the  crowd  of  men  of  many  na- 
tions — best  knew  what  must  be  first  endured.  As  he  alone, 
probably,  was  capable  of  it,  he  was  best  aware  of  the  long  prep- 
aration necessary  before  there  could  be  much  achievement ; of 
the  long  struggle  necessary  to  obtain  even  a footing  from  which 
to  proceed  ; of  the  tremendous  tension  of  patience  — the  prodig- 
ious resource  of  fortitude  — that  would  be  required  of  him,  even 
before  the  skill  and  courage  looked  for  in  generalship  could  come 
into  play  before  men’s  eyes.  The  task  to  be  achieved 
was  to  liberate  Europe  from  the  peril  of  a military  1 cu  ie*‘ 
servitude,  and  to  restore  her  to  her  place  in  the  register  of  the 
ages,  in  regard  to  civilization,  by  means  of  a firm  stand  made  in 
her  Peninsular  extremity.  This  noble  task  could  have  been  no 
easy  one,  if  all  aids  and  facilities  had  been  at  command ; but 
Wellesley  knew  it  to  be  far  otherwise.  He  must  have  known 
that  the  government  at  home  was  weak,  narrow-minded,  and 
selfish,  driven  hard  by  an  able  Opposition,  averse  to  the  war  ; 
and  perplexed  by  the  growing  distress  and  disaffection  of  the 
people.  He  knew  that  Portugal  and  Spain  were  ravaged  and 
wasted  by  the  cruel  system  of  warfare  carried  on  by  the  enemy ; 
and  that  his  own  troops,  however  brave,  were  inexperienced ; 


342 


THE  CAMPAIGN  OF  1809. 


[Book  II. 


while  the  Spanish  forces  were  wholly  unfit  to  meet  in  open  field 
the  armies  of  France,  and  their  commanders  were  fearfully  prone 
to  jealousy  of  foreigners,  and  to  caprice  and  self-will  in  their  no- 
tions of  the  way  in  which  the  war  should  be  conducted.  If 
Wellesley  was,  at  this  time,  aware  of  all  these  obstacles  in  the 
way  of  the  work  he  had  accepted,  we  can  hardly  estimate  the 
courage  which  animated  him  to  accept  it.  If  he  was  not  aware 
of  his  difficulties  from  the  outset,  we  can  hardly  estimate  the  for- 
titude and  patience  with  which  he  received  and  dealt  with  them 
as  they  arose,  during  whole  years  of  unprosperous  struggle  — 
the  necessary,  but  hard  condition  of  ultimate  victory. 

A brief  view  of  the  successive  campaigns  of  Wellesley  will 
give  a clear  idea  of  the  Peninsular  war,  which  may  be  said  to 
have  had  a fresh  beginning  from  the  landing  of  the  general,  with 
his  troops  and  stores,  in  April,  1809. 

It  was  clear  to  him,  in  the  first  place,  that  the  enemy  could 
Campaign  never  be  beaten  in  detail.  French  armies  were  posted, 
of  1809.  or  roving,  in  various  parts  of  the  Peninsula ; and  the 
defeat  of  one,  or  two,  or  three  of  them  would  only  send  the 
beaten  force  to  strengthen  some  other.  Even  victory  could  not, 
in  this  way,  free  Spain  within  any  assignable  time.  The  war- 
fare must  be  brought  within  compass,  if  there  was  to  be  any  end 
to  it.  Wellesley  would  fain  have  driven  at  once  at  the  very 
heart  of  the  usurpation  — would  have  so  penetrated  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Madrid  as  to  compel  the  French  armies  to  draw  together. 
At  first,  it  was  his  hope,  as  well  as  his  desire,  to  do  this  ; but  he 
presently  saw  that  Portugal  must  be  cleared,  before  anything 
else  could  be  done  with  safety.  Soult,  one  of  Napoleon’s  best 
generals,  was  at  Oporto ; and  his  army  occupied  the  northern 
provinces  of  Portugal,  to  the  extent  of  one  third  of  the  kingdom. 
He  might  come  down  upon  the  line  of  communication  with  Lis- 
bon, if  the  British  advanced  into  Spain  ; and,  again,  the  Portu- 
guese might  think  themselves  deserted,  and  grow  disheartened, 
if  they  were  left  with  an  enemy  pressing  upon  them,  while  their 
great  ally  went  seeking  other  foes  over  the  frontier. 

The  thing  determined  on  was  immediately  done.  On  the  12th 
Expulsion  of  of  May,  the  two  armies  were  gazing  at  each  other  from 
fronfportu-  the  northern  and  southern  banks  of  the  Douro,  at 
eal-  Oporto.1  The  broad  and  rapid  stream  rolled  between. 

The  circumstance  of  difference  was  that  the  French  had  drawn 
over  to  their  northern  bank  all  the  boats  they  could  hear  of. 
This  seemed  to  settle  the  business,  as  to  the  impossibility  of  a bat- 
tle ; but  Wellesley  had  obtained  possession  of  three  little  boats, 
with  which  he  contrived  to  land  a few  soldiers,  unobserved,  be- 
hind a building.  But  for  the  anxious  faces  and  gestures  of  the 
1 Wellington’s  Despatches,  iv.  p.  323. 


Chap.  VI.] 


WELLESLEY’S  VEXATIONS. 


343 


towns-people,  the  enemy  would  have  perceived  nothing  of  what 
was  going  on,  till  large  bodies  of  troops  were  landed : but  they 
made  the  discovery  very  early  ; and  the  chance  of  the  British 
who  had  crossed  appeared  desperate.  More  boats  were  now  sent, 
however ; the  troops  first  landed  maintained  their  ground  ; and 
the  French  were  defeated.  At  four  o’clock,  Wellesley  sat  quietly 
down  to  the  dinner  which  had  been  cooked  for  Soult.  While  re- 
treating, the  next  day,  Soult  discovered  that  the  British  were 
behind,  as  well  as  before  him,  in  possession  of  bridges  and  the 
great  road.  His  own  outlying  forces  were  driven  back  upon  him  ; 
and  his  situation  was  desperate.  He  heard  the  artillery  of  the 
British  approaching ; he  saw  their  outposts  coming  on.  He  for- 
sook his  artillery,  baggage,  and  ammunition  — blowing  up  as 
much  as  time  allowed  — and  escaped  over  the  mountains  by 
passes  so  difficult  that  all  the  horses  and  mules,  as  well  as  the 
sick  and  wounded,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  pursuing  British. 
By  the  time  Soult  crossed  the  frontier,  on  his  way  to  Lugo,  he 
had  lost  a fourth  of  the  army  with  which  he  had  awaited  the 
British  at  Oporto,  and  nearly  the  whole  of  its  appurtenances. 
Along  the  entire  route,  the  ashes  of  villages,  ravaged  fields,  and 
the  dead  bodies  of  the  peasants,  told  what  had  been  the  wants, 
and  what  the  temper,  of  the  defeated  force. 

Thus  was  the  first  aim  accomplished.  Portugal  was  cleared 
of  the  French.  It  was  done  within  a fortnight  of  the  armies 
first  coming  in  sight  of  each  other. 

And  now  began  the  hero’s  vexations.  For  a month,  in  the 
finest  season  of  the  year,  he  could  not  proceed  towards  want  of 
his  grand  aim  — reaching  Madrid  through  Estrema-  money- 
dura  — for  want  of  money.1  Moreover,  his  soldiers  spent  that 
month  disgracefully  — transgressing  all  bounds  of  dis-  indiscipline 
cipline,  and  exasperating  the  inhabitants  whom  they  of  troops, 
had  come  to  help.  Their  pay  was  in  arrear,  and  they  were  dis- 
contented : but  their  plunder  and  profligacy  were  too  bad  for  ex- 
cuse or  allowance  ; and  their  great  commander  declared  them,  at 
this  time,2  u worse  than  an  enemy  in  a country,  and  subject  to 
dissolution  alike  by  success  or  defeat.”  The  time  was  to  come 
when  the  same  general  was  to  declare  the  same  army  “ a perfect 
machine,”  as  the  highest  praise  he  could  give.  Meantime,  he 
had  to  educate  his  soldiery,  in  professional  morals  as  well  as  busi- 
ness. He  began  by  authorizing  increased  severity  of  punish- 
ment, and  by  having  the  roll  called  every  hour  — to  the  extreme 
inconvenience  of  stragglers. 

On  the  25th  of  June,  a supply  of  money  arrived  ; and  the 
British  might  move  on  towards  Spain.  And  now  came  another 
vexation.  It  should  be  mentioned,  not  because  it  is  possible  or 
1 Despatches,  iv.  p.  414.  2 Ibid.  p.  436. 


344  BATTLE  OF  TALA  VERA.  — WELLINGTON.  [Book  II. 


desirable  to  detail  the  embarrassments  of  the  great  leader ; but 
because  a specimen  of  each  class  of  vexations  will  give  the  best 
idea  of  what  the  sum  of  the  whole  must  have  been.  Wellesley 
Failure  of  requested  the  Spanish  general,  Cuesta,  to  take  up  some 
concert  in  strong  position  near  the  foot  of  the  Sierra  Morena,  and 
the  Spanish.  keep  the  French  army  of  the  south,  under  Victor, 
amused  and  employed,  while  the  British  and  Portuguese  moved 
upon  Placencia  and  Talavera,  so  as  to  threaten  Madrid,  and  cut 
off  Victor  from  access  to  the  capital.  Cuesta  refused  to  go  fur- 
ther south  than  the  Guadiana ; and  the  best  scheme  of  the  cam- 
paign had  to  be  given  up.1  Victor  joined  the  King,  his  master, 
and  the  other  generals  and  their  forces,  which  were  all  concen- 
trated to  bear  down  the  British  and  their  allies  at  Talavera. 
Talavera  The  battle  Talavera,  fought  almost  exclusively  by 
the  British  against  the  French,  was  the  first  during 
the  whole  of  the  wars  of  the  reign  in  which  the  two  nations  had 
fought  on  a large  scale,  so  as  to  try  their  powers  before  the  eyes 
of  the  world.  For  two  successive  days,2  22,000  British  fought 
45,000  French;  and  the  victory  — hardly  won,  and  bloody,  but 
very  glorious  — remained  with  the  British.  The  results  proved 
to  be  much  smaller  than  might  have  been  expected.  Those  who 
were  indisposed  to  the  war  said  that  the  results  were  nothing. 
But,  however  subsequent  troubles  might  have  perplexed  men's 
vision,  it  is  now  evident  that  the  conviction,  immediately  spread 
abroad  over  Europe,  that  the  British  could  meet  and  beat  the 
French  in  a pitched  battle,  was  a result  which  no  man  should 
have  dared  to  despise.  The  battle  was  fought  on  the  27th  and 
28th  of  July.  As  soon  as  the  news  arrived  in  England,  Sir  Ar- 
Weiiesiey  thur  Wellesley  was  created  Lord  Viscount  Welling- 

becomes  ton  ; and  we  shall  henceforth  call  him  by  that  name 

Wellington,  which  he  will  be  known  through  all  coming  time. 

Almost  before  his  soldiers  had  rested  from  the  battle,  Welling- 
ton had  to  guide  them  in  a difficult  and  dangerous  retreat.  The 
Spaniards  had  let  Soult  and  his  army  unmolested  through  a pass 
which  ought  to  have  been  held  against  him  ; and  he  had  come 
down  upon  Placencia,  close  upon  the  rear  of  the  British,  and  di- 
rectly in  the  way  between  them  and  Lisbon.  Our  great  general 
would  fain  have  dealt  with  both  the  armies  between  which  he 
was  now  placed  — engaging  first  the  one,  and  then  the  other ; 
and  if  he  had  had  double  his  force  of  British  soldiers  — of  whom 
he  had  20,000  — he  would  probably  have  done  the  deed ; but 
the  Spaniards  were  showing  him  very  plainly  that  they  were  not 
to  be  depended  on.  Brave  as  many  of  them  were,  and  well  as 
they  acted  on  particular  occasions,  and  in  particular  branches  of 
the  service,  they  were  so  uncertain,  as  to  courage,  discretion,  and 
1 Despatches,  iv.  p.  430.  2 Ibid.  pp.  532-537. 


Chap.  VI.]  HARDSHIPS  OF  BRITISH  ARMY. 


345 


temper,  that  no  hazard  must  be  incurred  in  reliance  on  them. 
When,  on  the  3d  of  August,  the  retreat  was  begun, 

2000  British  wounded  were  left  at  Talavera  under  Retreat- 
the  charge  of  the  Spanish  general  Cuesta,  who  had  himself 
chosen  the  service  of  keeping  the  place,  and  protecting  the 
wounded  ; but,  almost  before  Wellington  was  out  of  sight,  Cu- 
esta left  the  wounded  to  their  fate,  and  followed  his  ally,  for 
safety.  He  soon  after  resigned  his  command,  disheartened  by 
difficulties ; and  his  force  was  broken  up  into  divisions.  Simli 
incidents  as  these,  happening  on  many  critical  points,  and  through 
a series  of  weeks  and  months,  showed  the  world  plainly  enough, 
that  the  Peninsular  war  was  to  be  carried  through  by  the  Brit- 
ish, aided  by  the  Portuguese,  and  with  more  hindrance  than  help 
from  the  Spanish  forces.  Wellington  was  now  compelled  to 
cross  the  Tagus.  He  destroyed  the  bridges  ; but  the  French 
discovered  a ford  ; and  there  was  now  nothing  to  prevent  a junc- 
tion of  the  whole  French  force.  Their  numbers  were  so  over- 
whelming, that  they  must  have  destroyed  the  army  of  the  allies, 
if  they  had  made  the  attempt ; but  they  did  not ; and  Napoleon 
regretted  the  mistake,  to  the  end  of  his  life.  Their  soldiers,  like 
ours,  were  weary  and  hungry  ; but  the  French  generals  must 
have  deeply  respected  the  quality  of  the  British  troops,  to  hesi- 
tate at  such  a juncture  to  attack  them.  They  had  delivered 
over  Madrid  to  Joseph,  however,  and  driven  the  British  to  the 
south  of  the  Tagus ; and  they  rested  on  those  achievements. 

If  Wellington  could  have  fed  his  soldiers,  he  would,  even  now, 
have  resumed  offensive  operations ; but  the  Spaniards 
broke  all  their  promises  about  furnishing  provisions,  Hdrdships* 
while  themselves  feeding  abundantly.  The  horses  of  the  British 
artillery  and  cavalry  were  dying  by  hundreds  of  mere  starva- 
tion ; the  men  were  often  a whole  day  without  any  food  at  all ; 
and  they  rarely  had  enough  ; while  the  Spanish  troops,  who  had 
deserted  the  wounded  of  their  allies,  were  abundantly  supplied 
before  their  eyes.  Quarrels  naturally  arose,  spreading  from  the 
generals  to  the  privates  of  the  allied  forces  ; and  after  a miser- 
able month,  the  British  crossed  the  mountains  to  the  south  of 
them,  and  descended  into  the  valley  of  the  Guadiana,  having 
Badajoz,  with  its  magazines  of  provisions,  for  their  head-quarters. 
They  now  had  food  ; but  their  misery  increased.  Fever  brooded 
over  the  wet  sands  of  the  valley;  and  soon,  7000  British  were 
in  hospital ; and  nearly  two  thirds  of  them  died. 

The  ruinous  defeat  of  the  Spanish  at  Ocana,  in  November, 
closed  the  campaign.  It  was  so  complete,  that  King  Joseph 
thought  himself  established  in  safety,  and  concluded  that  the 
Peninsular  War  was  at  an  end.  The  effect  upon  Wellington 
was  to  convince  him  that  the  preservation  of  Portugal  must  be 


346 


GLOOMY  CLOSE  OF  THE  YEAR.  [B<  ok  II. 


his  grand  object.  A basis  might  thus  be  retained  for  operations 
in  happier  days.  He  devoted  his  mind  to  secure  this  humbler 
aim  with  the  same  calmness  and  cheerfulness  that  he  manifested 
in  the  richest  hour  of  victory.  He  withdrew  his  troops  over  the 
frontier,  and  so  posted  them  as  to  secure  the  great  road  to  Lisbon 
from  the  French  who  were  assembling  in  vast  numbers  at  Ciudad 
Rodrigo.  The  greater  part  of  the  British  force  was  at  Almeida  ; 
and  the  rest  within  easy  reach. 

Thus  closed  the  year  1809,  in  deep  gloom,  as  regarded  the 
Gloomy  Spanish  cause.  The  prospect  for  the  British  was 

close  of  the  dreary.  Wellington  could  not  maintain  his  army,  as 
>ear’  the  French  generals  did  theirs,  by  ravaging  the  coun- 

try, and  starving  the  inhabitants.  Though  his  virtuous  policy 
proved  the  best  in  the  long  run,  as  it  secured  the  good-will  of  the 
natives,  and  won  from  them  a variety  of  essential  services,  it  cost 
money  at  the  moment ; and  the  difficulty  of  obtaining  money 
from  home  was  so  great  as  to  become  at  times  exasperating.  He 
had  seldom  or  never  more  than  25,000  soldiers  producible  in  the 
field  ; and  men  also  were  most  sparingly  supplied  from  home. 
Of  the  quality  of  his  allies,  no  more  need  be  said.  Meantime, 
while  Wellington  was  maintaining  his  little  army  at  the  cost  of 
230,000/.  a month,  the  French  were  paying  for  nothing  that  they 
could  help  themselves  to.  Their  force  amounted  to  90,000  men  ; 
and  they  could  have  more  whenever  they  pleased.  They  were 
exhilarated  with  their  victory  at  Ocana,  and  entered  upon  the 
year  1810  in  high  spirits.  It  was  not  till  their  adversity  began 
that  they  knew  what  they  had  done  in  drawing  upon  themselves 
the  deadly  hatred  of  the  peasantry. 

While  the  spirits  of  the  French  in  Spain  were  at  the  highest, 
those  of  the  British  nation  were  at  the  lowest.  At  the  begin- 
ning of  1810,  the  forces  of  the  empire  were  more  prodigious 
than  at  any  time  since  the  English  began  to  be  a nation.  The 
sea  was  wholly  ours ; and  our  colonial  possessions  and  India 
were  safe.  One  hundred  thousand  men  were  on  the  continent ; 
and  400,000  militia  and  regular  troops  guarded  the  British  isl- 
ands ; yet  it  seemed  as  if  nothing  was  done.  The  people  bore 
the  burden  of  this  unexampled  military  expenditure ; and  they 
saw  nothing  but  failure  everywhere.  The  Walcheren  expedi- 
tion was  a failure ; we  had  failed  at  Naples ; Sir  J.  Moore's  army 
was  driven  out  of  Spain;  and  now  Wellington,  having  gained 
nothing  but  an  empty  victory,  was  in  full  retreat  before  the  tri- 
umphant enemy.  The  deep  despondency  of  the  people  found  a 
voice  in  Parliament ; and  the  coolest  leaders  of  the  Opposition 
avowed  their  belief  that,  in  a few  months,  not  a British  soldier 
would  remain  in  the  Peninsula,  but  as  a prisoner.  The  City  of 
London  addressed  the  throne,  praying  for  an  inquiry  into  the 


Chap.  VI.]  CAMPAIGN  OF  1810.  — LOSS  OF  CITIES.  347 


conduct  of  Wellington,1  in  consequence  of  the  failure  of  his  ex- 
pedition into  Spain.  Under  the  light  of  subsequent  events,  this 
appears  a strange  and  scarcely  credible  incident ; but  it  must  be 
remembered  that  Wellington  had  then  his  European  reputation 
to  make.  India  had  been  the  scene  of  his  greatness  ; and  it  re- 
mained to  be  shown  what  he  could  do  in  European  warfare.  No 
one  knew  so  well  as  himself  how  long  a time  must  yet  elapse 
before  he  could  vindicate  his  early  reputation  ; and  he  braced 
himself  up,  in  solitary  resolution  and  silent  patience,  to  wait,  and 
to  make  others  wait,  for  the  day  of  his  glory.  He  intended  the 
campaign  of  1810  to  be  one  of  waiting ; and  he  matured  his  de- 
fensive policy  with  a fortitude  far  more  moving  to  look  back  upon 
now  than  his  most  splendid  triumphs.  Meantime,  the  City  of 
London,  in  their  address  to  the  King,2  protested  against  confer- 
ring “ honorable  distinctions  on  a general,  who  had  thus  exhibited, 
with  equal  rashness  and  ostentation,  nothing  but  a useless  valor.” 
They  were  now  soon  to  see  that  he  could  forego  “ ostentation,” 
and  that  something  lay  under  the  “ valor.” 

Government  resolved  to  go  on  with  the  Peninsular  war ; and 
parliament  granted  ample  supplies  for  the  purpose,  campaign 
Napoleon,  having  won  the  battle  of  Wagram,  moved  ofl810- 
his  forces  upon  Spain,  and  raised  the  amount  of  his  troops  there 
to  the  enormous  number  of  366,000.3  He  allowed  only  80,000/. 
per  month  for  their  support,  compelling  them  to  levy  from  the 
Spaniards  what  more  they  wanted ; a short-sighted  and  fatal 
policy ; as  he  learned  when,  at  a future  time,  he  found  every 
peasant  his  enemy,  and  could  by  no  art  obtain  messengers,  guides, 
or  any  means  of  correspondence  between  the  different  bodies  of 
his  soldiery.  His  brother,  on  the  throne  of  Spain,  was  already 
without  a shilling;  and  the  Ministers  had  scarcely  clothes  to 
their  backs.  His  soldiers  scraped  the  country  bare,  and  kept  for 
themselves  whatever  they  could  lay  hands  on. 

On  the  1st  of  February  Joseph  entered  Seville  in  triumph; 
the  city  having  surrendered  the  day  before.  Malaga  loss  of 
fell  next.  The  noble  Albuquerque  saved  Cadiz,  and  cities- 
thereby  the  cause ; for,  if  Cadiz  had  fallen  now,  Wellington 
could  not  have  sustained  himself  in  Portugal.  In  May,  Lerida 
surrendered  to  the  French,  the  governor  being  unable  to  endure 
the  spectacle  of  the  slaughter,  by  bombs  and  howitzers,  of  the 
multitude  of  women  and  children  who  had  crowded  into  the  cita- 
del. The  garrison  consisted  of  7000  men  ; yet  they  surren- 
dered, to  save  a further  sacrifice  of  the  lives  of  the  helpless.  I11 
the  east  of  Spain  the  French  were  subjugating  one  district  after 
another;  and  in  July,  the  adversity  of  Spain  seemed  to  be  com- 
pleted by  the  fall  — under  the  very  eyes  of  Wellington  — of  the 
1 Alison’s  History  of  Europe,  vii.  p.  809.  2 Ibid.  p.  810.  3 Ibid.  p.  823. 


348 


RETREAT  THROUGH  PORTUGAL.  [Book  II. 


important  fortress  of  Ciudad  Rodrigo.  Wellington  was  on  the 
hills,  with  32,000  men  ; and  there  he  remained,  seeing  the  fatal 
blow  struck.  It  was  more  than  probable  that  the  same  stroke 
would  lay  low  his  own  reputation ; but  the  French  were  more 
than  double  his  own  numbers,  and  on  a large  proportion  of  his 
troops  he  could  not  depend.  If  it  was  all-important  that  he 
should  retain  Portugal,  he  must  not  go  down  into  the  plain,  and 
expose  the  cause  to  so  tremendous  a risk.  He  therefore  re- 
mained upon  the  hills,  and  saw  the  fortress  fall. 

He  had  for  some  time  been  aware  that  the  whole  responsibility 
of  the  Peninsular  War  rested  on  himself.  After  the  Cabinet 
quarrel  which  threw  out  Lord  Castlereagh  and  Mr.  Canning,  the 
Ministers  had  told  him  so.  Lord  Liverpool  and  Mr.  Perceval, 
the  two  with  whom  he  had  to  do,  told  him  so.  They  could  not 
understand  the  business  ; they  shared  the  popular  alarm  about 
the  enterprise  ; and  they  merely  deferred  to  his  judgment:  they 
hung  upon  him,  rather  than  sustained  him.  They  sent  out,  how- 
ever, some  of  the  arms  and  clothing  he  demanded  ; and  he  worked 
hard,  during  the  winter,  to  make  real  soldiers  of  the  Portuguese. 
He  clothed  them ; he  armed  them ; he  filled  up  their  ranks  and 
drilled  them ; and  they  improved  in  capability  as  the  English 
Wellington’s  imProved  *n  health  and  strength.  So  long  ago  as  the 
defensive  preceding  October,  he  had,  in  his  own  mind,  fixed  on 
policy.  Torres  Vedras  as  the  station  which  he  would  fortify, 
to  secure  Lisbon,  and  form  an  impregnable  position,  for  refuge, 
defence,  or  starting-point  of  offence,  as  the  case  might  hereafter 
require.  There  his  engineers  worked  diligently  for  above  a year ; 
at  the  end  of  which  time  there  were  three  lines  of  defence,  and 
within  all,  an  entrenched  camp,  which  secured  both  the  arrival 
Lines  of  and  departure  of  troops  by  sea.  The  outer  line  was 
Torres  29  miles  long,  and  extended  from  the  Tagus  above 

vedras.  Lisbon  to  the  sea-coast  at  Zezambre.  It  was  at  first 

intended  merely  to  keep  the  enemy  in  check ; and  the  second, 
eight  miles  long,  was  made  the  strongest,  and  the  real  post  of 
defence  ; but  there  was  time  to  fortify  the  outer  line,  so  as  to 
make  it  impregnable,  before  it  was  wanted.  These  works  were 
proceeding  during  the  spring  and  summer  of  1810,  while  the 
Spanish  fortresses  were  falling ; and  were  nearly  concluded 
when,  on  the  11th  of  July,  Wellington  witnessed  the  entrance 
of  the  French  into  Ciudad  Rodrigo. 

It  was  Massena  who  made  this  conquest,  and  was  now  imme- 
diately opposed  to  Wellington.  He  moved  over  the 
frontier,  the  British  retiring  before  him.  Almeida, 
the  late  station  of  the  British,  was  lost  on  the  first  at- 
tack, from  a French  bomb  blowing  up  the  magazine,  and  depriv- 
ing the  garrison  of  all  their  ammunition  at  one  blast.  As  Wel- 


Retreat 

through 

Portugal. 


Chap.  VI.] 


BATTLE  OF  BUSACO. 


349 


lington  retreated  down  the  valley  of  the  Mondego,  he  compelled 
the  destruction  of  everything,  over  a wide  tract  of  country  — 
crops,  mills,  all  that  could  afford  means  of  subsistence  to  the  en- 
emy. Multitudes  of  destitute  people  accompanied  him,  or  made 
the  best  of  their  way  to  Lisbon.  The  women  carried  the  chil- 
dren ; the  young  carried  the  aged ; any  might  take  what  prop- 
erty they  could  convey  ; but  all  else  was  burned,  or  sunk  in  the 
rivers.  As  Lisbon  became  overcrowded  with  the  fugitives,  such 
a cry  of  horror  and  grief  arose  — such  a temper  of  despair  was 
manifested  — that  Wellington  found  he  must  permit  some  fight- 
ing, to  rouse  the  courage  of  people,  soldiery,  and  the  governments 
of  both  countries.  Then  was  fought  the  battle  of  Busaco. 

The  ridge  of  Busaco  overhung  the  northern  shore  of  the 
Mondego,  down  which  the  French  were  marching, 
to  the  number  of  72,000.  The  British  and  Portu-  Busac0, 
guese,  numbering  50,000,  crossed  the  river,  and  took  posses- 
sion of  the  ridge.  On  the  night  of  the  26th  of  September,  the 
fires  of  the  bivouacs  shone  on  the  craggy  peaks  above  which  the 
stars  were  bright.  The  young  soldiers,  to  whom  the  expecta- 
tion of  a great  battle  was  new,  did  not  sleep  so  sound  as  the  vet- 
erans ; and,  towards  morning,  they  heard  a rustling  in  the  woods 
of  the  gullies  on  the  mountain-side.  The  outposts  of  the  enemy 
had  crept  up  close  to  the  British  outposts.  Every  man  was  on 
his  feet,  the  instant  the  alarm  was  given  ; and  two  strong  col- 
umns of  the  enemy  appeared  in  front.  The  conflict  was  a des- 
perate one  ; but  the  French  were  driven  back  at  all  points,  and 
finally  beaten  at  the  bottom  of  the  hill.1  This  was  the  first  time 
that  the  Portuguese  had  encountered  the  French  in  actual  bat- 
tle ; and  their  success,  and  the  praises  given  them  by  Welling- 
ton, and  the  clear  view  they  now  had  of  their  importance  in  the 
cause,  doubled  their  value,  as  patriots  and  soldiers,  in  a single 
day.  This  was  the  great  result  of  the  battle  of  Busaco. 

Wellington  had  looked  for  another.  He  fully  expected  that 
Massena  would  halt  or  turn  back,  if  beaten  at  Busaco.  Massena’s 
But  Napoleon’s  orders  were  so  positive,  and  it  had  be-  imprudence 
come  so  settled  a habit  with  his  generals  to  push  on  in  hopes  of 
striking  a decisive  blow,  that  Massena  proceeded.  The  valley 
of  the  Mondego  was  now  impracticable ; but  there  was  a moun- 
tain pass  by  which  he  could  attain  the  great  north  road  from  Lis- 
bon to  Oporto ; and  he  was  permitted  to  reach  it  unmolested. 
From  the  ridge  of  Busaco,  Wellington  saw  the  enemy  defiling 
through  the  pass ; and  he  let  them  go,  aware  that  they  were 
marching  to  their  destruction.  He  continued  his  retreat  to 
Torres  Vedras,  clearing  the  country  of  food,  people,  and  ani- 
mals, as  he  went.  On  the  15th  of  October,  the  whole  force  had 
i Despatches,  September  30,  1810. 


350 


FRENCH  EXPELLED  FROM  PORTUGAL.  [Book  II. 


entered  within  the  lines.  Immediately  after,  Massena  came  up. 
Me  knew  nothing  whatever  of  any  entrenchments  ; and  here  he 
found  a breastwork  of  fortifications  against  which  the  billows  of 
war  might  dash  forever  without  disturbing  the  calm  within.  He 
had  no  magazines  ; the  whole  country  around  and  behind  him 
was  bare ; and  the  Portuguese  militia  everywhere  cut  off  his 
communication  with  Spain.  There  is  no  need  to  dwell  on  the 
miseries  suffered  by  his  troops.  In  a month,  during  which  he 
hoped  for  instructions  from  Paris,  his  army  was  cruelly  wasted 
by  hunger  and  disease.  It  is  needless  also  to  detail  the  abuse 
heaped  upon  the  British  general  by  Napoleon,  his  newspapers, 
and  his  creatures.  It  was  not  likely  that  Wellington  would  be 
pardoned  for  adopting  a method  of  warfare  opposite  to  that  which 
was  Napoleon’s  forte . All  that  we  have  to  do  with  the  question 
here  is  to  show  how  the  defensive  method  answered,  in  regard  to 
the  war.  This  was  soon  a clear  point.  On  the  14th  of  Novem- 
ber, Massena  drew  off  his  force,  in  beggarly  condition ; and  for 
the  first  time  since  the  accession  of  Napoleon,  the  French  stand- 
Retreat  of  ards  were  carried  backwards  in  regular  retreat.  Before 
the  French.  Massena  quitted  Portugal,  he  had  lost  45,000  men  ; 
the  loss  of  the  allies  being  less  than  a fourth  of  that  number. 

Wellington  followed  the  enemy,  and  kept  close  watch.  Mas- 
sena lingered  on  the  north  bank  of  the  Tagus,  striving  to  collect 
a subsistence,  and  avoid  the  disgrace  of  evacuating  Portugal, 
without  having  struck  another  blow  ; but,  when  he  heard  of  the 
arrival  of  reinforcements  from  England  in  March,  (after  six 
weeks  of  contrary  winds,)  he  hastened  back  to  Almeida  and 
Ciudad  Rodrigo,  whence  he  had  set  forth  so  hopefully,  half  a 
year  before. 

The  delay  caused  by  those  six  weeks  of  contrary  winds  was  a 
grievous  misfortune  to  the  British.  The  enemy  had  obtained 
such  advantages  near  the  frontier,  that  a new  invasion  of  Portu- 
gal might  be  looked  for.  The  Spanish  commanders  were  exhib- 
iting more  presumption  and  weakness  than  ever.  One  sacrificed 
a large  force  on  the  Gebora ; and  another  shamefully  surrendered 
Badajoz.  Nothing  went  well  where  British  generals  were  absent. 
A last  stand  was  made  by  Massena  at  Almeida ; and  the  battle 
fought  for  the  possession  of  the  place  was  the  most  critical  yet 
for  the  British ; the  most  nearly  lost,  and  the  most  fatal  if  lost. 
Massena,  however,  marched  away,  and  stopped  no  more  till  he 
Portugal  reached  Salamanca.  By  the  12th  of  May,  1811,  Por- 
clear*  tugal  had  cast  out  her  invaders. 

There  could  not  be  much  joy  on  the  occasion,  so  wretched 
Grant  for  was  the  condition  of  the  inhabitants.  It  was  a serious 
“or.  thought  — and  especially  in  the  gloomy  year  1811  — 
tuguese.  that  we  were  not  only  to  sustain  Portugal  by  the  force 


Chap.  VI.]  NAPOLEON  ASSURED  OF  SUCCESS. 


351 


of  our  arms,  but  to  feed  her  people  out  of  our  purses.  Yet,  there 
was  nothing  else  to  be  done,  if  the  peasantry  were  not  to  die  of 
famine  throughout  the  country.  In  April,  the  Prince  Regent 
sent  a message  to  Parliament 1 on  the  subject ; and  a grant  of 
100,000/.  was  agreed  to.  Meetings  were  held  in  London  and 
Westminster,  to  promote  private  subscriptions  ; and  the  compas- 
sion of  England  was  so  roused  that  the  supplies  sent  out  to  Lis- 
bon were  effectual. 

While  many  at  home  complained  that  the  war  dragged,  and 
groaned  out  that  Napoleon  was  no  more  in  danger  of  extinction 
than  heretofore,  the  greater  number  became  aware  that  important 
steps  had  been  gained.  The  Ministers  were  among  these.  They 
had  fully  expected  to  hear  that  Wellington  and  his  troops  must 
embark  from  Lisbon ; and  they  made  haste  to  provide  shipping 
which  should  save  the  army.  They  sent  word  to  him  net  to 
come  home,  but  to  proceed  to  Cadiz,  and  renew  the  contest  from 
that  point.  When  they  found  that  the  lines  at  Torres  Vedras 
were  impregnable,  and  that  their  General  had  issued  from  them 
to  chase  the  French  out  of  Portugal,  they  began,  at  last,  to  en- 
tertain some  hope  of  final  success.  Thus  closed  the  campaign  of 
1810,  extending  over  the  spring  of  1811. 

In  181 1,  Napoleon  was  at  the  height  of  his  power,  and  Eng- 
land was  in  the  lowest  depth  of  her  weakness.  We  Napoleon>8 
can  perceive  now  how  near  was  the  turning-point ; but  present 
nobody  perceived  it  then  — not  even  the  far-seeing  suPremacy* 
Wellington,  much  less  the  self-willed  Napoleon.  Ilis  was  now 
the  pride  which  goes  before  a fall.  Reckoning  on  the  weakness 
of  England,  and  his  military  possession  of  the  whole  of  Spain, 
he  was  planning  his  Russian  expedition,  and  ruling  with  an  iron 
rule  all  who  were  within  his  power.  Tortosa  had  surrendered  to 
him  in  the  preceding  November;  and  now,  in  June,  Tarragona, 
the  last  fortress  of  considerable  importance,  had  been  stormed  by 
his  troops.  By  its  fall,  the  Spaniards  had  lost  20,000  Fail  of  more 
of  their  best  troops  ; and,  far  worse,  their  grand  ar-  cities- 
senal,  and  all  effectual  communication  with  the  British  fleets. 
Napoleon  thought  himself  safe  on  the  side  of  the  Peninsula  ; 
and  he  began  to  withdraw  his  forces  for  his  Russian  campaign. 
He  oppressed  his  three  brothers  so  cruelly,  that  they  turned 
against  him.  Louis  had  renounced  the  crown  of  Holland  to  escape 
from  his  tyranny.  Lucien  fled  from  before  his  face,  and  took 
temporary  refuge  in  England.  As  for  Joseph,  while  he  sat  pen- 
niless in  his  palace,  unable  to  offer  a dinner  to  foreign  ambassa- 
dors, or  to  the  ministers  of  his  kingdom,  and  scarcely  even  clc  tiled 
with  decency,  it  came  to  his  knowledge  that  his  brother  was 
about  to  dismember  the  territory  of  Spain,  in  order  to  annex  the 
1 Annual  Register,  1811,  p.  37. 


352 


GUERRILLA  WARFARE. 


[Book  II 


greater  part  of  it  to  France,  and  hold  a complete  control  over  the 
remainder.  This  was  too  much  ; and  Joseph,  before  tried  to  the 
Joseph’s  res-  limit  of  his  strength,  went  to  Paris  in  May,  and  re- 
the^panish  signed  his  crown.  For  once,  the  Emperor  was  discon- 
erown.  certed.  He  spoke  his  brother  fair,  and  made  a private 
treaty  with  him,  by  which  Joseph  obtained  the  redress  of  some 
of  his  most  exasperating  grievances. 

Among  the  rank  crop  of  his  successes  lay  hidden  the  seeds  of 
Reaction  Napoleon’s  reverses.  A son  was,  by  this  time,  born 
approaching.  to  him.  The  prospect  of  this  succession  roused  ail 
Europe  to  hasten  their  vengeance  on  the  tyrant.  Russia,  espec- 
ially, was  thus  roused.  Alexander  had  never  forgiven  the  slight 
passed  upon  his  sister  by  Napoleon’s  marriage  to  an  Austrian 
princess ; and  the  great  northern  war  was  brewing.  That  war 
was  to  release  British  commerce  from  its  fetters ; and  freedom  of 
commerce  was  all  that  England  wanted  to  restore  her  resources. 
In  scattering  the  Spanish  armies,  Napoleon  raised  up  against  him- 
self a far  more  formidable  force  than  he  had  ever  had  to  meet 
in  the  fields  where  armies  clash  in  battle.  There  were  as  many 
armed  Spaniards  as  ever  bent  on  expelling  him  from  their  coun- 
try. If  they  could  not  meet  him  in  the  field,  much  less  could 
he  cope  with  them  in  the  mountains,  the  woods,  the  defiles,  the 
starlight  roads,  where  they  began  to  form.  Some  of  the  greatest 
The  Guer-  soldiers  in  Spain  had  now  become  Guerrilla  chiefs  ; 
rihas.  and  so  many  were  the  bands,  that  the  French  were 

cut  down  by  them  by  night  in  the  narrow  streets  of  cities,  as 
well  as  in  the  remotest  forest  paths  and  gullies  of  the  mountains. 
Armed  and  clad  lightly,  and  united  by  a spirit  of  enterprise,  a 
sense  of  bitter  wrong,  and  a thirst  for  vengeance  common  to 
them  all,  these  wild  warriors  harassed  the  intruders  beyond  the 
point  of  endurance.  They  cut  off  the  advanced  guards  of  the 
French,  seized  their  convoys,  left  them  no  patrols,  shot  them 
down  from  the  crags,  came  up  from  the  watercourses,  rushed 
out  from  the  thickets,  made  prisoners  of  small  parties,  carried 
off  the  guides  of  larger  ones,  kidnapped  the  French  couriers, 
stole  their  horses,  starved  their  camps,  occupied  the  towns  left 
with  small  garrisons,  and  destroyed  the  villages  where  the  troops 
would  have  rested.  Dispersing  at  the  first  blow,  they  reappeared 
at  the  next  difficult  point.  They  could  never  be  counted  ; and 
they  could  never  be  got  rid  of.  It  seemed  as  if  the  earth 
spawned  them  before  the  feet  of  the  invaders.  On  one  day, 
Mina,  the  great  Guerrilla  chief,  took  possession  of  twelve  carts 
laden  with  silver  for  the  pay  of  the  troops,  catching  as  many  as  he 
could  of  the  600  cavalry  which  escorted  them.  On  another  day, 
another  chief  carried  off  6000  muskets,  and  as  many  suits  of 
uniform,  on  their  way  out  of  France  to  the  troops  in  Asturias. 


Chap.  VI.]  DIFFICULTIES  OF  THE  FRENCH. 


353 


One  of  the  Guerrilla  chiefs,  a gentleman  whose  whole  family  had 
been  slain  before  his  face,  was  called  L’Empecinado : a title 
which  was  heard  over  all  Europe,  through  the  boldness  of  his 
deeds.  He  made  Joseph  tremble  on  his  throne,  by  watching 
Madrid  wdth  a body  of  8000  men.  No  French  courier  attempted 
to  go  the  smallest  distance  without  an  escort  of  200  soldiers  at 
least.  Despatches  for  Paris  were  sent  to  the  frontier  under  a 
guard  of  1400  dragoons.  Soon  after,  it  became  necessary  to 
detach  3000  of  the  troops,  whenever  any  person  or  letter  of  im- 
portance was  to  be  conveyed  from  one  point  to  another ; and  yet, 
letters  were  intercepted  so  abundantly  as  that  the  French  could 
rarely  keep  a secret  from  the  enemy,  while  they  learned  little  or 
nothing  in  return,  and  knew7  less  than  the  Spaniards  of  the  inten- 
tions and  movements  of  their  own  leaders  and  distant  bodies  of 
troops. 

Again,  the  provisions  of  the  country  became  less  and  less  pro- 
curable by  the  French,  owing  to  their  habits  of  rapine,  and 
their  established  method  of  making  the  inhabitants  support  the 
soldiery  without  pay.  Everything  portable  was  snatched  from 
the  French  vrho  would  not  pay,  and  brought  to  the  British  who 
did.  Again,  Napoleon  was  growing  restless,  and  discontented 
with  his  generals.  We  find  his  rebukes  and  hasty  judgments 
more  frequent,  and  more  harshly  expressed,  at  this  time  and  on- 
wards, than  at  the  beginning  of  the  struggle.  It  was  his  doing 
that  Massena  made  his  disastrous  march  to  Torres  Vedras  and 
back  again  ; and  that  Estremadura  and  Portugal  were  attacked 
at  the  same  time  : and,  when  misfortune  ensued,  he  blamed  his 
generals,  instead  of  doubting  his  own  power  of  judging  from  a 
distance.  All  these  things  were  now  working  together,  as  the 
retrospective  observer  perceives.  We  have  now  to  see  how  the 
good  cause  gained  upon  the  bad  — by  what  degrees,  and  with 
what  checks. 

In  June,  1811,  Marshal  Bessieres  wrote  thus,  from  the  army, 
to  Paris.  It  must  be  premised  that  “ insurrection  ” Difficulties 
here  means  the  warfare  carried  on  under  the  Guerrilla  of  the 
chiefs.1  “ The  army  of  the  north,”  wrote  Bessieres,  French‘ 

“ is  composed,  it  is  true,  of  44,000  men ; but,  if  you  unite  20,000 
together,  all  communication  ceases,  and  the  insurrection  makes 
great  progress.  The  coast  wdll  soon  be  lost  as  far  as  Bilboa. 
We  are  destitute  of  everything.  It  is  with  the  greatest  difficulty 
we  can  live  from  day  to  day.  The  spirit  of  the  country  is  fright- 
ful. The  journey  of  King  Joseph  to  Paris  — the  retreat  from 
Portugal  — the  evacuation  of  the  country  as  far  as  Salamanca 
— have  elevated  their  minds  to  a degree  I cannot  express.  The 
bands  enlarge  and  recruit  daily  at  all  points.”  At  the  same 

1 Alison’s  History,  viii.  p.  293. 

23 


VOL.  I. 


354 


BRITISH  DIFFICULTIES.  — SET-OFF.  [Book  II. 


time,  Wellington  was  writing,  “ The  loss  of  Badajoz  I consider 
as  by  far  the  greatest  misfortune  which  has  befallen  us  since  the 
Of  the  commencement  of  the  Peninsular  War.”  The  recovery 

British.  0f  this  fortress  — the  'point  d’appui  of  western  Spain 

— was,  of  course,  the  first  object.  But  new  vexations  and  im- 
pediments were  arising.  The  disastrous  effects  of  the  Waleheren 
expedition  extended  even  into  Spain.  The  reinforcements  from 
England  brought  the  Waleheren  fever  with  them  ; and  as  the 
heats  of  summer  increased,  the  fever  spread,  till,  in  October, 
there  were  no  less  than  25,000  men  in  hospital,  of  whom  1 9,000 
were  British.  Multitudes  of  Portuguese  who  escaped  the  sick 
ness  dropped  back  into  their  own  country  and  native  districts. 
Not  more  than  14,000  of  the  whole  army  could  be  depended  on 
for  service,  at  the  beginning  of  the  new  campaign,  though  the 
nominal  amount  of  force  was  30,000.  The  French  had,  at  the 
same  time,  40,000  of  cavalry  alone  ; and  their  whole  force  was 
about  370,000.  It  seems  wonderful  that  there  should  have  been 
any  hope  for  the  cause,  in  the  face  of  so  enormous  a dispropor- 
tion of  numbers.  However  and  wherever  the  French  armies 
might  be  employed,  it  was  certain  that  at  any  point  where  the 
British  might  show  themselves,  treble  their  numbers  might  at 
once  be  brought  up  to  meet  them.  The  set-off  against  this  was 
that  the  forces  of  the  British  could  keep  together,  while  the 
French  were  compelled  to  dissolve  perpetually  in  search  of  food. 
Wellington’s  great  care  was  to  keep  open  the  roads  from  the  re- 
spective bodies  of  his  troops  back  to  Torres  Vedras,  and  to  place 
these  bodies  within  reach  of  constant  mutual  communication. 
Another  care  was  to  secure  the  navigable  rivers ; and  even  to 
make  portions  of  the  rivers  navigable,  for  the  bringing  up  of 
stores  from  the  sea.  He  so  contrived  this  water-carriage,  as 
that  even  to  Badajoz  the  land-carriage  did  not  exceed  100  miles. 
In  December,  1811,  Wellington,  who  kept  on  the  cautious  side 
in  his  correspondence,  wrote  home  to  his  government1  that 
the  situation  of  the  allies  was  improving ; and  that  if  the  Spanish 
people  held  out,  he  believed  it  was  still  possible  to  save  them. 
He  went  to  work  to  save  them,  undeterred  by  the  miserable 
jealousies  and  faithlessness,  amounting  to  treason,  of  their  gen- 
erals and  their  government ; by  the  sickness  around  him,  the 
embarrassing  weakness  of  the  Portuguese  regency  behind  him, 
and  the  penury  of  the  government  at  home,  which  frustrated 
his  best  schemes,  by  leaving  him  destitute  of  money  and  stores. 
It  saddens  the  heart  to  read  his  correspondence  of  this  year, 
through  which  are  scattered  expressions  which  reveal  the  bit- 
terness and  occasional  exasperation  of  his  mind.  Under  this 
weight  of  cares,  his  indomitable  spirit  braved  all  impediments, 
1 Despatches,  viii.  p.  437. 


Chap.  VI.]  ALBUERA.  — CIUDAD  RODRIGO. 


355 


and  impelled  him  to  set  forth  on  his  magnificent  career  of  vic- 
tory. 

First,  in  May,  he  ordered  the  investment  of  Badajoz.  As 
soon  as  ground  was  broken  before  it,  the  French  army  campaign 
under  Marshal  Soult  marched  on  to  its  rescue.  When  of  1811* 
they  came  in  sight  of  the  valley  of  the  Guadiana,  Marshal  Ber- 
esford  withdrew  his  force  from  the  siege  of  Badajoz,  and  went 
forth  to  meet  the  enemy,  seeing  that  there  must  be  a battle  be- 
fore the  fortress  could  be  gained.  It  was  on  the  15th  that  the 
French  appeared  on  the  heights  of  Albuera ; and  there,  Albuera 
on  the  16th,  the  battle  was  fought.  It  was  a tremen- 
dous fight ; and  so  nearly  lost  by  the  British,  that  Beresford  was 
preparing  for  a retreat,  when  Colonel  (now  Lord)  Hardinge 
dared  one  more  retrieving  effort,  and  changed  the  aspect  of  the 
struggle.  After  such  a carnage  as  can  scarcely  be  equalled  in 
all  military  history,  the  mighty  mass  of  the  hostile  army  was 
driven,  as  by  an  avalanche,  down  the  hill,  and  the  remnant  of 
the  British  stood  victors  at  the  top.  Of  6000  who  had  mounted 
it,  only  1500  remained  on  their  feet ; and  the  dead  and  wounded 
lay  heaped  on  the  ridge.  Others  crowded  up  from  below,  and 
pursued  the  French,  who  saved  their  artillery,  but  little  else. 
In  four  hours,  8000  French  and  nearly  7000  of  the  allies  had 
been  struck  down.  The  distress  was  so  fearful  that  no  one  seems 
to  have  been  certain  whether  there  was  victory  on  either  side, 
till  Soult  made  the  matter  clear  by  retreating  to  Seville,  leaving 
the  British  to  resume  the  siege  of  Badajoz.  The  place  was  not 
then  taken.  The  battle  of  Albuera  answered  a great  purpose  in 
compelling  Napoleon  to  displace  his  armies,  and  change  his 
plans;  but  this  again  compelled  Wellington  to  raise  Sieo.eof 
the  siege,  and  retire  into  Portugal,  early  in  June.  Badajoz  re- 
There  his  sick  were  nursed,  and  his  resources  improved,  lm(iuished* 
in  preparation  for  the  next  advance. 

It  was  on  the  8tli  of  January,  1812,  that  the  French  won 
their  last  great  victory  in  Spain,  by  the  fall  of  Yalen-  campaign 
cia,  in  the  far  east  of  Spain.  It  was  on  the  next  day  ofl812- 
that  Wellington  set  forth  again,  crossing  the  Agueda,  on  his 
way  to  Ciudad  Rodrigo.  His  late  reinforcements  did  not  im- 
mediately avail  him  much ; for  most  of  the  soldiers  who  arrived 
had  to  go  through  the  Walcheren  fever  before  they  were  fit  for 
service.  Ciudad  Rodrigo  was  so  strong  that  the  final  storming 
was  fearful ; but  it  availed.  The  General’s  order,  on  the  17th 
of  January,  was  “Ciudad  Rodrigo  must  be  carried  Ciudad 
by  assault  this  evening  at  seven  o’clock.”  It  was  Rodris°* 
done  — first  under  the  faint  light  of  the  young  moon,  and  after- 
wards by  the  glare  of  the  flames  which  began  to  spread  in  the 
town  ; and  in  the  morning  the  governor  yielded  up  his  sword  to 


356 


SIEGE  OF  BADAJOZ. 


[Book  II. 


Mr.  (afterwnrds  Lieutenant-Colonel)  Gurwood,  at  the  gate  of 
the  castle.  The  deed  was  disgraced  by  the  violence  and  brutal- 
ity of  the  soldiery,  to  whom  victory  of  this  kind  was  new,  and 
thoroughly  intoxicating  after  years  of  hardships  and  mortifica- 
tion. This  was  the  great  drawback  upon  the  satisfaction  of  cap- 
turing the  strong  frontier  fortress  of  Spain,  with  the  whole  bat- 
tering train  of  Marmont’s  army,  and  vast  stores.  As  often 
happened  now,  Marmont  was  kept  in  the  dark  to  the  last  mo- 
ment ; and  had  scarcely  heard  of  the  British  having  left  Portu- 
gal, when  the  news  arrived  of  the  fall  of  Ciudad  Rodrigo.  Be* 
fore  he  could  collect  his  troops,  the  British  had  repaired  their 
fortifications,  and  laid  in  provisions  for  six  weeks  ; and  Welling- 
ton was  secretly  maturing  his  plans  against  Badajoz. 

So  secret  were  his  preparations  that  the  Emperor  would  not 
believe  Marshal  Marmont’s  warnings  of  the  danger,  but  was 
positive  that  it  was  Salamanca  that  was  threatened.  This 
was,  in  a manner,  true.  Wellington  meant  to  have  them  both  ; 
but  Badajoz  first.  His  patience  was  cruelly  tried,  and  a host  of 
lives  was  afterwards  lost,  by  the  timidity  and  dilatoriness  of  the 
Portuguese  regency,  who  caused  a delay  of  six  days  in  crossing 
the  rivers,  for  want  of  the  means  of  transport.  During  those 
days,  the  defences  had  been  improved  to  a degree  which  rendered 
the  capture  of  the  fortress  a work  of  desperate  difficulty.  Two 
thousand  men  fell,  under  horrible  circumstances,  in  one  ineffec- 
tual attempt,  before  a great  beam  thick-set  with  sword-blades, 
which  had  very  lately  been  fixed  in  its  place,  and  which  made 
the  assailants  certain  prey  to  the  defenders.  Five  thousand  were 
killed  or  wounded  before  Badajoz  ; but  it  was  taken, 
Badajoz.  after  a siege  of  nineteen  days.  On  the  night  of  the 
6th  of  April,  the  brave  governor  sent  out  some  horsemen,  while 
the  drawbridge  was  yet  in  his  power,  to  inform  Soult  of  what 
was  happening,  and  then  surrendered  the  place.  During  the 
awful  hours  of  the  storming,  Wellington  stood  on  one  spot,  “near 
the  quarries,”  where  the  necessary  information  was  brought  to 
him,  and  whence  he  issued  his  orders.  No  one  perceived  that 
he  was  moved  by  repeated  news  of  the  desperate  slaughter  of 
his  troops  that  was  going  on.  He  had  settled  that  Badajoz  must 
be  carried,  and  he  did  not  flinch  in  the  doing  it.  But,  the  deed 
achieved,  his  tears  showed  what  it  had  cost  him.  “ When,”  says 
Napier,1  “ the  extent  of  the  night’s  havoc  was  made  known  to 
Lord  Wellington,  the  firmness  of  his  nature  gave  way  for  a mo- 
ment, and  the  pride  of  conquest  yielded  to  a passionate  burst  of 
grief  for  the  loss  of  his  gallant  soldiers.”  At  the  same  moment, 
strange  spectacles  were  seen  in  the  squares  and  streets.  French 
officers,  their  wives  and  children,  were  besetting  the  English  offi- 
1 Peninsular  War,  iv.  p.  433. 


Chap.  VI.] 


HONORS  TO  WELLINGTON. 


357 


cers,  frantically  imploring  that  protection  from  the  soldiery  which 
it  was  not  possible  to  afford.  While  the  prisoners  stood  or  fled 
— their  children  in  their  arms,  and  packets  of  valuables  in  their 
hands  — the  delirious  soldiers  masqueraded  as  monks  and  friars,  or 
in  court-dresses,  or  any  finery  that  they  could  lay  their  hands  on. 
They  played  antics  in  the  churches,  while  robbing  them  of  plate 
and  vestments  ; they  carried  furniture  about  in  the  streets,  and 
got  at  the  military  chest.  While  the  dying  were  groaning  in  the 
trenrhes,  and  Wellington  was  mourning  his  dead,  and  the  officers 
used  every  conceivable  tone  of  command  and  remonstrance,  in 
vain,  brutal  laughter  went  up  from  the  streets,  mingled  with 
shrieks  of  fear  and  agony,  and  with  the  crash  of  doors  and  win- 
dows, and  with  the  hissing  of  fire,  and  the  report  of  muskets  in 
the  hands  of  drunken  banditti; — for  the  British  soldiers  were 
for  two  days  a drunken  banditti.  When,  on  the  third  day,  there 
was  nothing  more  to  be  had,  the  soldiers  were  at  last  induced  to 
look  to  their  wounded  and  dead.  Wellington  could  not  yet  call 
his  army  “ a perfect  machine.” 

The  final  rescue  of  the  Peninsula  was  owing  to  this  conquest, 
more  than  to  any  other.  The  stores  of  guns  and  ammunition 
were  vast,  the  prisoners  many,  and  of  importance ; but  it  was 
of  more  consequence  that  the  maintenance  of  Badajoz  was  the 
chief  point  of  honor  with  the  French,  whose  three  great  armies 
had  not  prevented  their  losing  their  two  great  frontier  fortresses 
at  the  outset  of  the  campaign.  The  Spaniards  had  Honors  to 
made  Wellington  a grandee  of  the  first  class,  on  the  Wellington, 
capture  of  Ciudad  Rodrigo  ; and  in  England,  he  was  made  an 
earl,  with  the  pension  of  2000/.  a year.  Almost  before  this  was 
settled,  the  news  arrived  of  the  greater  conquest  of  Badajoz  ; 
and  this  taught  men  to  look  for  something  more. 

Soult  had  come  up  from  Seville,  just  as  he  had  done  when 
Badajoz  was  in  danger  before ; but  there  was  now  no  second  bat- 
tle of  Albuera.  The  horsemen  that  Philippon,  the  brave  gov- 
ernor, had  sent  forth,  before  he  lost  the  drawbridge,  met  Soult, 
and  gave  him  news  which  made  him  hasten  back  to  Seville  with 
all  speed.  Wellington  longed  to  follow,  and  annihilate  this 
branch  of  the  great  French  force,  so  that  from  Badajoz  to  Cadiz 
the  Spaniards  might  hold  their  own  again  ; and  it  appears  that 
he  actually  designed  this  brilliant  enterprise.1  But  there  was 
other  work  for  him  to  do.  The  authorities  had  failed  in  their 
promises,  as  usual.  They  had  not  provisioned  Ciudad  Rodrigo  ; 
and  Marmont,  having  moved  heaven  and  earth  to  obtain  fifteen 
days’  food  for  his  army,  was  moving  down  upon  the  frontier. 
He  invested  Ciudad  Rodrigo,  and  ravaged  some  districts  of 
Portugal.  On  Wellington  turning  his  face  northwards,  Marmont 
1 Despatches,  ix.  p.  43. 


358 


PLANS.  — ADVANCE  AND  RETREAT.  [Book  IL 


retired  to  Salamanca  ; and  then  there  was  a pause,  occasioned 
by  scarcity.  Tiie  French  could  do  nothing  effectual  till  the  crops 
became  eatable;  and  the  English  horses  must  depend  on  the  green 
fields  for  their  support ; and  the  fields  were  as  yet  not  green. 
Wellington  employed  the  interval  in  provisioning  and  strengthen- 
ing his  new  conquests,  under  the  dread,  as  he  avowed,  of  losing 
them  both  before  the  summer  was  over,  from  the  indolence  and 
faithlessness  of  the  native  authorities. 

During  this  pause,  too,  Napoleon  began  to  show  his  intents 
Napoleon's  and  humors.  He  censured  his  generals,  in  terms  of 
plans.  actual  insult,1  and  declared  that  he  would  come  and 
manage  the  war  for  himself.  Yet  his  Russian  war  was  at  that 
time  so  inevitable,  that  he  was  withdrawing  his  troops  from  the 
Peninsula,  to  serve  in  the  north ; and  rendering  the  occupation 
of  Spain  somewhat  less  difficult,  as  he  believed,  by  annexing  a 
considerable  portion  of  its  territory  to  France.  It  was  one  of 
his  unfounded  fancies  that  he  should  thus  render  more  easy  his 
occupation  of  Spain.  His  brother  Joseph  was  exasperated  ; no- 
body was  pleased  : and  the  40,000  men  that  he  summoned  to  go 
with  him  to  the  Niemen  were  as  much  wanted  in  Catalonia, 
after  it  was  called  French  territory,  as  they  had  been  at  any  time 
of  the  war. 

During  this  pause,  too,  Soult,  as  well  as  Wellington,  was  mak- 
pians  of  the  ing  secret  preparations  for  the  invasion  of  provinces, 
generals.  Wellington  meant  to  invade  the  northern  provinces 
of  Spain,  and  Soult  the  southern  ones  of  Portugal.  Time  would 
show  which  would  be  first  ready,  and  therefore  soonest  free  to 
drive  out  the  other.  It  was  on  the  13th  of  June  that  Wellington 
crossed  the  Agueda,  on  his  way  to  Salamanca.  When  he  got 
there,  the  inhabitants  illuminated,  and  shouted  joyful  songs.  The 
French  were  gone  (from  the  town,  not  from  its  defences),  and 
the  deliverers  had  come.  The  forts  yielded  in  a few  days  ; but 
the  dangers  of  the  British  had  much  increased,  from  the  skilful 
junction  of  two  bodies  of  French  force,  while  others,  and  even 
King  Joseph  himself,  were  coming  down  upon  them.  Welling- 
ton had  been  expecting  the  arrival  of  Lord  W.  Bentinck  from 
Sicily,  with  fresh  troops,  which  were  to  land  on  the  eastern  coast, 
and  proceed  to  aid  him,  by  drawing  off  the  French  to  that  quar- 
ter. But  Lord  W.  Bentinck  took  it  into  his  head  to  go  some- 
where else,  and  try  some  experiment  on  the  coast  of  Italy.  The 
experiment  failed,  and  Wellington  had  no  choice  but  to  retreat 
before  his  multitudinous  foe.  At  the  same  time,  Lord  W.  Ben- 
tinck had  obtained  and  thrown  away  4,000,000  of  dollars  which 
Wellington  ought  to  have  had  from  Gibraltar  and  Minorca,  and 
for  want  of  which  he  could  with  difficulty  sustain  himself  from 
1 Alison’s  History,  viii.  p.  415,  ( note ). 


Chap.  VI.]  BATTLE  OE  SALAMANCA. —MADRID. 


359 


day  lo  day.  “ Lord  William’s  decision  is  fatal  to  the  campaign, 
at  least  at  present,”  1 Wellington  wrote  on  the  15th  of  July.  Of 
course,  he  retreated,  and  Marmont  followed.  After  many  re- 
markable movements,  a singular  spectacle  was  seen  on  the  20th. 
It  had  been  supposed  that  a pitched  battle  would  take  place  on 
that  day.  The  armies  faced  each  other  on  the  opposite  banks  of 
the  Guarenna;  and  Wellington  had  taken  his  ground,  and  made 
his  preparations.  But  Marmont  moved  on  along  the  heights  on 
his  own  bank  of  the  river,  and  the  British  marched  in  a parallel 
line  on  the  opposite  heights.  The  two  armies  were  within  mus- 
ket-shot of  each  other,  in  perfect  array,  and  each  with  hovering 
cavalry  on  the  watch  against  the  foe.  The  French  outstripped 
the  British,  and  Wellington  was  compelled  to  surrender  the  hope 
of  preventing  the  junction  of  three  bodies  of  the  enemy. 

On  the  2 2d,  the  British  appeared  completely  hemmed  in ; 
and  their  situation  was  extremely  critical.  But  Mar- 

, . , . . ' . . . n P Salamanca. 

mont  made  a mistake  — separating  his  left  wing  from 
the  centre  by  too  rapid  a march.  Wellington  lifted  his  glass, 
and  after  a keen  gaze  of  a few  moments,  exclaimed,  “ At  last  I 
have  them ! ” He  told  the  Spanish  general  at  his  side  that  Mar- 
mont was  lost,  and  gave  rapid  orders  which  were  to  prove  his 
words.  Marmont,  from  a height,  saw  the  danger  too,  and  gave 
his  orders  as  rapidly  as  possible  : but  the  British  had  a shorter 
distance  to  move ; and  they  impelled  their  whole  force  against 
the  severed  and  weakened  masses  of  the  enemy,  and  gained  the 
battle  of  Salamanca.  It  was  dark  before  the  struggle  was  over  ; 
and  then,  Wellington  unfortunately  pursued  in  the  wrong  direc- 
tion. But  for  this,  the  destruction  of  the  French  army  must 
have  been  complete,  and  the  whole  of  their  artillery  have  been 
captured.  As  it  was,  their  army  was  perceived,  soon  afterwards, 
to  have  become  weakened  by  one  half.  It  now  retreated  to  Val- 
ladolid ; and  Joseph  drew  back  towards  Madrid. 

The  news  soon  reached  Madrid,  and  with  it  all  the  hopes  and 
fears  attendant  on  such  an  event  as  the  British  taking  occupation 
possession  of  the  capital.  And  the  British  really  were  of  Madrid, 
coming.  They  came,  when  the  French  inhabitants,  and  those 
who  had  acquiesced  in  the  French  occupancy,  had  escaped  from 
the  city  in  extreme  trepidation.  On  the  evening  of  the  11th  of 
August,  long  trains  of  vehicles  moved  away  on  the  Toledo  road  ; 
and  on  the  morning  of  the  12th  the  eyes  of  all  who  remained  in 
Madrid  were  fixed  on  the  Guadarama  road,  by  which  the  British 
were  approaching.  The  entry  into  the  capital  was  a noble  spec- 
tacle — with  the  proud  standards,  and  the  martial  music,  and  the 
march  of  soldiers  who  came  as  deliverers.  Then  there  were 
illuminations  and  a speedy  submission  of  the  forts,  and  yielding 
1 Despatches,  ix.  p.  287. 


360 


RETREAT  OF  THE  BRITISH. 


[Book  II. 


up  of  more  French  artillery,  and  a grand  proclamation  of  the 
Spanish  constitution  in  the  public  squares,  and  the  appointment 
of  a Spanish  governor ; and  while  the  people  of  Madrid  were 
thus  happy,  poor  King  Joseph  was  wretched  enough  — hampered 
in  his  flight  by  the  vast  crowd  of  helpless  and  homeless  citizens 
who  clung  to  him  now  for  aid,  because  they  had  accepted  him 
in  the  day  of  French  supremacy.  Wellington  could  have  swept 
the  whole  mass  into  the  river ; but  he  let  them  go  whither  they 
would.1 

Meantime,  Wellington’s  position  was  far  less  secure  than 
brilliant;  and  he  must  lose  no  time,  and  spare  no  energy  in 
maintaining  it.  He  had  no  means  at  Madrid  which  could  justify 
his  remaining  there  ; no  money  came  from  home  ; and  he  knew 
he  need  not  look  for  any  just  at  the  moment  when  England  was 
going  to  war  with  America.  The  French  were  gathering  up 
their  forces  in  the  north  ; and  he  went  forth  to  find  them. 

He  besieged  Burgos,  and  failed.  After  thirty  days,  during 
Failure  at  which  he  had  lost  2000  men,  and  a vast  amount  of 
Burgos.  ammunition  which  he  could  ill  spare,  he  was  obliged  to 
raise  the  siege,  pressed  by  the  concentration  of  the  French  forces, 
for  which  time  had  been  afforded  by  the  pause  before  Burgos. 
The  successes  of  the  campaign  were  over ; and  it  closed  in  re- 
Evacuation  verses.  Madrid  could  not  be  held.  The  scene  of  the 
of  Madrid.  entry  was  exactly  reversed.  The  inhabitants  wept 
and  even  wailed ; the  British  troops  marched  away  mournfully 
by  the  Guadarama  road ; and  Joseph  came  in,  joyful  to  see  his 
helpless  followers  restored  to  their  homes.  Then  followed  the 
melancholy  retreat  from  Burgos,  with  its  dangers,  sins,  and  mis- 
eries. It  began  with  a silent  and  stealthy  night  march  over  the 
bridge  of  the  Arlanza,  under  the  guns  of  the  castle.  The  artil- 
ery  wheels  were  muffled  with  straw,  and  not  a F renchman  would 
have  suspected  the  retreat  till  morning,  if  some  of  the  Spanish 
light-horse  had  not  lost  nerve,  and  broken  into  a gallop.  The 
castle  guns  fired  on  the  bridge,  but  no  great  damage  was  done  ; 
and  the  gain  of  that  night  march  was  great.  Yet  the  French 
infested  the  retreating  army ; constant  vigilance  was 
necessary  ; and  skirmishes  and  partial  combats  were 
frequent.  When  the  troops  passed  the  wine  vaults  of  Torque- 
mada,  they  lost  all  discipline,  and  12,000  men  were  seen  drunk 
at  one  time.  The  weather  was  bad  ; the  means  of  transport 
scanty  ; and  the  sick  and  wounded  were  still  on  the  wrong  side 
the  Douro.  It  was  not  possible  to  proceed,  in  the  presence  of  a 
fierce  enemy;  and  Wellington  carried  his  force  over  the  Carrion, 
and  there  halted,  on  the  24th  of  October.  He  had  come  little 
more  than  fifty  miles.  Here,  the  enemy,  kept  in  check  by  the 
1 Napier’s  History,  v.  p.  192. 


Chap.  VI.]  DISASTERS. —OFFICERS  REBUKED. 


361 


blowing  up  of  the  bridge,  discovered  from  the  English  themselves, 
by  an  audacious  hoax,  the  ford  of  the  river ; and  their  crossing 
compelled  the  British  to  move  on  with  all  speed.  Their  march 
was  injured  and  disgraced  by  terrible  disorders.  It  was  necessary 
to  call  together  all  the  forces,  in  order  to  hold  any  part  of  the 
ground  gained ; and  some  came  from  Cadiz,  and  more  from  Ma- 
drid, relinquishing  the  line  of  the  Tagus.  These  last,  under  Gen- 
eral Hill,  showed  no  better  conduct  than  those  they  were  going 
to  meet.  Napier  tells  us  1 that  he  himself  saw,  in  one  day,  the 
bodies  of  seventeen  murdered  peasants  — murdered  by  either 
British,  Spanish,  or  Portuguese,  or  all ; and  drunkenness  and 
rapine  disgraced  the  march. 

When  Wellington  arrived  on  the  ground  where  he  had  gained 
the  great  victory  of  Salamanca,  he  earnestly  desired  another 
battle,  which  should  exhibit  the  issue  of  the  campaign  of  1812. 
He  sent  away  the  sick,  and  chose  his  ground.  If  he  was  de- 
feated, he  had  only  to  retreat  into  Portugal ; and  if  he  con- 
quered, he  should  recover  Madrid.  At  this  moment,  however, 
the  enemy  stole  a march  upon  him,  and  crossed  the  Tormes,  ren- 
dering a rapid  retreat  more  necessary  than  ever.  The  soldiers 
could  not  be  restrained  from  shooting  down  the  swine  in  the 
woods  for  food  ; and  there  was  such  a roll  of  musketry  that  Wel- 
lington thought  the  enemy  were  upon  him.2  Even  the  hanging 
of  two  offenders  did  not  stop  the  disobedience ; and  the  British 
might  now  have  been  an  easy  prey,  if  the  foe  had  taken  ad- 
vantage of  them.  The  French  captured  2000  stragglers,  but 
made  no  attack.  The  next  evening,  the  17th  of  November, 
they  laid  hands  on  General  Paget,  in  a wood,  and  carried  him 
off.  Next,  some  of  the  officers  proved  insubordinate,  and  tried, 
out  of  their  fancy,  a road  which  Wellington  knew  to  be  impassa- 
ble. They  stopped  before  a rush  of  water  ; and  Wellington  rode 
up,  uttered  one  expression  of  contempt,  and  led  them  back  to 
the  proper  road;  but  time  was  lost.  But  for  the  scarcity  of 
provisions  among  the  French,  which  compelled  them  to  halt  for 
a day,  the  retreating  force  could  hardly  have  escaped  destruction. 
They  struggled  on,  over  swampy  plains,  past  treacherous  gullies, 
and  in  the  face  of  wintry  tempests,  and,  on  the  evening  of  the 
18th,  bivouacked  on  the  dry  hills  near  Ciudad  Rodrigo.  From 
the  commencement  of  the  siege  of  Burgos  to  this  hour,  the  loss 
of  the  Allied  Army  could  not  be  reckoned  at  less  than  9000 
men : a disastrous  close  of  the  campaign  which  had  begun  with 
the  capture  of  Ciudad  Rodrigo,  and  Badajoz,  and  the  occupation 
of  Madrid.  Wellington  now  addressed  to  his  officers  a severe 
letter  of  rebuke,3  in  which  he  declared  that  his  army  had  fallen 

i Napier’s  History,  v.  p.  318.  2 Ibid.  p.  329. 

8 Alison’s  History,  viii.  p.  501,  {note). 


362 


NAPOLEON’S  HUS  SIAN  CAMPAIGN.  [Book  II. 


off  in  the  late  campaign  in  a greater  degree  than  any  army  he 
had  ever  accompanied  or  heard  of.  This  letter,  published  in 
England,  of  course  was  republished  at  Paris ; and  the  sensation 
it  excited  was  prodigious.  Complaints,  evidently  just,  were  made 
that  the  censure  was  general  and  unqualified  ; whereas  some 
corps  had  preserved  order  and  obedience  throughout.  Allowance 
should  certainly  have  been  made  for  the  extreme  protraction  of 
the  sufferings  of  some  of  the  soldiery,  and  for  incident-  which 
had  not  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  Commander : and  again, 
allowance  should  be  made  for  the  accumulation  of  anxieties  and 
irritations  that  the  Commander  had  to  endure  alone,  and  which 
were  more  than  human  temper  can  be  expected  to  sustain  at  all 
times  unshaken.  The  good  effects  of  this  plain  expression  of 
opinion  were,  however,  visible  at  the  outset  of  the  next  campaign. 
Meantime,  Wellington  had  such  command  of  this  part  of  the 
frontier,  that  he  could  spread  his  troops  among  good  and  safe 
quarters,  gather  together  his  reinforcements,  and  all  needful 
equipments,  and  look  to  the  recovery  of  the  sick,  and  the  rest 
of  the  weary. 

Just  at  this  time,  Parliament  was  called  together,  and  the 
Northern  Regent’s  Speech  told  of  peace  and  friendship  with 
wars  of  Sweden  and  Russia,  by  which  the  continental  markets 


were  again  opened  to  our  traders.  Napoleon  had 


Napoleon. 

been  to  Moscow,  and  had  returned  to  Paris.  He  had  entered 
Moscow  in  a mood  of  high  exultation,  his  imagination  being  in- 
toxicated with  revived  visions  of  oriental  conquest,  while  his  eye 
rested  on  the  cupolas  and  minarets  of  the  city,  its  palaces  sur- 
rounded by  gardens,  and  the  Asiatic  aspect  which  it  bore  from 
end  to  end.  His  soldiery  had  been  half  delirious  with  joy  and 
hope,1  while  Alexander  was  making  a really  sublime  appeal  to 
the  despair  of  his  subjects,  against  the  conqueror  whom  he  had 
so  lately  embraced  as  a brother,  in  forgetfulness  of  the  interests 
of  all  his  other  crowned  brethren  in  Europe.  Napoleon  had 
Burning  of  been  driven  out  of  Moscow  by  flames,  which  actually 
Moscow.  wreathed  about  his  horse  as  he  rushed  through  the 
narrow  streets ; he  had  hoped  to  winter  among  the  ruins,  and 
had  found  it  impossible.  He  had  retreated  with  all  the  speed 
that  his  imperious  will  could  command ; but  too  slow  for  the  soft 
and  silent  snow ; too  slow  for  the  shouting  and  fierce  Cossacks 
who  harassed  him  all  round ; too  slow  for  the  hardy 
Russian  army,  which  pressed  upon  him  at  every  point 
of  difficulty,  trampling  his  men  under  their  horses,  thrusting 
whole  regiments  into  icy  rivers,  and  picking  up  all  his  artillery 
and  stores,  as  he  dropped  them  by  the  way-side.  Such  was  his 
plight  when  Wellington  quartered  his  army  for  the  winter,  and 
1 Alison’s  History,  viii.  p.  732. 


His  retreat. 


Chap.  VI.]  NEW  HOPE  OF  THE  ENGLISH. 


363 


when  the  British  Parliament  met  to  consider  the  state  of  Euro- 
pean affairs.  The  Invincible  was  conquered  at  last.  The  In- 
vulnerable was  wounded  at  last  — not  in  skin  or  limb,  but  in  the 
more  tender  point  of  his  pride.  The  tyranny  under  which  it 
had  seemed  but  too  probable  that  the  world  would  be  swept  back 
to  the  dark  ages  of  military  despotism,  was  broken;  and  the  hu- 
man race  might  take  breath,  and  hasten  to  emancipate  itself. 
The  British  Parliament  had  hardly  proceeded  to  business,  when 
the  news  arrived  that  Napoleon  had  returned  to  Paris,  travelling 
without  a suite,  and  under  an  assumed  title.  His  language  to 
the  Senate  was  as  boastful  as  usual  ; but  it  was  too  late  for  such 
language  now.  Rumors  were  all  abroad  of  the  nature  of  the 
spectacle  from  which  he  had  fled ; and  while  men  were  told  of 
the  shoals  of  corpses  that  were  drifting  with  the  ice  of  the  north- 
ern rivers,  and  of  the  dyeing  of  the  snows  of  the  plains  with 
French  blood,  and  of  the  circles  of  frozen  soldiers  that  were  left 
every  morning  round  the  extinct  fires  of  the  bivouacs,  and  of  the 
frantic  wretches  — so  lately  proud  soldiers  — who  were  taken 
or  slain  while  tearing  the  flesh  of  dead  horses  from  the  bones, 
they  cared  little  for  fine  promises  for  the  future,  and  big  words 
about  the  past.  The  plain  truth,  which  no  language  could  dis- 
guise, was  that  the  Russian  campaign  had  cost  France  and  her 
auxiliaries  450,000  men.  It  did  not,  perhaps,  soothe  the  feelings 
of  the  people  of  Paris  to  know  that  their  Emperor,  while  the 
remnant  of  his  army  was  still  weltering  in  the  snows  where  he 
had  left  them,  rubbed  his  hands  over  a good  fire  in  his  palace, 
and  observed  to  his  officers,  “ This  is  pleasanter  than  Moscow.” 
“ My  army,”  he  coolly  announced  to  the  Senate,  “ has  sustained 
losses  ; but  it  was  owing  to  the  premature  severity  of  the  season.” 
The  British  Parliament  voted  100,000/.  to  Wellington  (now  a 
Marquess),  and  200,000/.  for  the  relief  of  the  houseless  More  honors 
multitude  who  had  been  the  inhabitants  of  Moscow,  to  Weiiing- 
Probably  the  over-burdened  people  of  England  could  ton' 
raise  the  money  with  better  heart  now,  from  the  new  hope  that 
had  arisen  of  the  downfall  of  Bonaparte.  It  was  at  first  rather 
too  precipitate  a hope.  Our  elderly  generation  must  National 
remember  the  eagerness  with  which,  during  that  No-  hoPe- 
vember,  men  of  business  hurried  home  from  the  post-office,  and 
working  men  to  their  dinners,  with  the  news  that  Bonaparte  was 
so  beset  that  he  could  not  possibly  escape ; that  he  was  on  the 
point  of  being  taken  ; and  that  the  next  ship  must  bring  news 
of  his  capture  : and  the  hearth  felt  warmer,  and  its  blaze  looked 
brighter,  as  families  sat  round  it,  questioning  and  conjecturing 
what  would  be-  done  with  him.  The  Christmas  festivities  were 
rather  damped  by  the  news  that  he  was  rubbing  his  hands  over 
the  fire  at  the  Tuileries,  and  boasting  of  the  grand  things  he 


364  LORD  WELLESLEY’S  PLEA.  [Book  II 

meant  to  do.  Still,  he  had  been  beaten,  and  there  was  hope  that 
the  tide  had  turned. 

The  Regent’s  Speech,  presented  before  the  whole  extent  of 
Napoleon’s  adversity  was  known,  expressed  confidence  that  par- 
liament would  continue  to  support  the  Peninsular  war,1  for  the 
sake  of  British  interests,  as  well  as  those  of  Spain  and  Portugal, 
It  struck  Lord  Wellesley,  as  it  did  a good  many  other  LordWel_ 
people,  that  this  was  an  inadequate  view  of  the  irnpor-  lesiey’s 
tance  of  the  struggle.  He  was  persuaded  that  Minis-  plea‘ 
ters  did  not  estimate  their  own  duty  in  regard  to  his  “ brother 
Arthur  ” (as  he  had  proudly  called  him  so  long  ago)  ; and  1 e 
spoke  his  mind  with  a plainness  which  the  Ministers  condemned 
as  bad  taste  at  the  time,  but  which  it  is  now  not  a little  moving 
to  read  of.  He  saw  that  his  brother  Arthur’s  conquests,  of  the 
last  summer,  had  been  the  real  basis  of  the  successes  in  Russia : 
he  felt  that  they  were  the  heart  of  Russian  enterprise,  the  cen- 
tral fire  of  Russian  patrotism  at  the  present  moment ; and  the 
present  moment  was  the  time  for  saying  so.  The  broadest  sincer- 
ity was,  at  such  a period,  the  best  taste.  He  asked  Ministers2 
whether  they  had  ever  proposed  to  themselves  or  the  nation  any 
definite  object  in  prosecuting  the  Peninsular  war.  To  him,  the 
object  seemed  clear  enough,  — to  drive  out  the  French.  Had 
any  energy  been  shown  in  the  pursuit  of  this  aim?  Should  not 
every  effort  have  been  redoubled  as  Napoleon  became  engaged 
in  conflict  with  Russia  ? Instead  of  this  having  been  done,  his 
brother  had  been  impeded  in  every  movement,  and  checked  in 
the  midst  of  every  enterprise,  by  the  apathy,  or  the  ill-will,  or 
the  helplessness,  or  whatever  it  was,  that  prevented  his  own 
government  from  sending  him  men,  money,  stores,  and  cheering 
words.  “The  great  general  who  commanded  our  armies  in 
Spain  ” had  taken  advantage  of  every  accident,  as  in  the  instance 
of  the  battle  of  Salamanca ; but  he  should  not  be  made  depend- 
ent on  his  own  genius  and  the  occurrence  of  accidents.  “ Was 
this  ground  to  build  upon  ? His  talents,  indeed,  were  a firm  and 
secure  rock  on  which  any  hopes,  any  expectations,  however  great, 
however  exalted,  might  be  founded ; but  it  ill  became  statesmen 
to  calculate  upon  chances  and  occasions  presenting  themselves, 
for  success  in  operations,  upon  the  prosperous  issue  of  which  so 
much  depended.  Did  the  Ministry  mean  to  say  that  their  sys- 
tem was  raised  solely  upon  the  resplendent  abilities  of  a con- 
summate general,  and  upon  the  errors  of  the  enemy?”  Official 
men  might  smile,  and  carping  listeners  might  sneer  at  the  digni- 
fied statesman  thus  “ exceeding  the  bounds  of  fraternal  eulogy ; 99 
but  the  plain  tale  that  he  told,  at  length,  of  the  vexations  inflict- 
ed upon  Wellington  within  the  last  year,  as  in  each  preceding 
1 Hansard,  xxiv.  p.  12.  2 Ibid.  pp.  20-32. 


Chap.  VI.] 


CAMPAIGN  OF  1813. 


365 


campaign,  carried  conviction  to  all  the  best  minds.  There  was 
a general  expectation  that  more  vigorous  support  would  be 
given  from  home,  as  the  spirit  of  hope  grew  stronger  all  over 
the  world. 

Wellington  was  now  not  only  adorned  and  enriched  with  new 
ti  les,  and  grants  of  money  ; he  was  made  Commander-  Wellington 
in-Chief  of  all  the  armies  in  Spain,  by  desire  of  the  ^ommander- 
Spaniards  themselves,  though  not  without  opposition  armies  in 
and  a natural  jealousy  on  the  part  of  some  of  the  na-  Spain- 
tive  generals.  His  own  government  granted  him  a ready  permis- 
sion to  accept  the  honor  ; and  he  was  himself  well  pleased  at  this 
removal  of  one  class  of  impediments.  Cadiz  was  now  free ; as 
the  French  had  been  compelled  to  raise  the  siege  when  he  was 
defying  their  strength  in  the  more  central  parts  of  the  kingdom. 
Thus  fortified  in  dignity  and  command,  and  conscious  of  the  pro- 
digious weakening  of  the  enemy,  he  prepared  for  the  campaign 
of  1813,  feeling  that  it  might,  and  probably  wrould,  be  the  decisive 
one  of  the  whole  war. 

Wellington  being  now  Commander-in-Chief  of  all  the  armies 
of  the  allies  in  Spain,  his  business,  after  quartering  his  troops, 
was  to  provide  for  the  office  being  rendered  a really  efficient  one. 
At  Christmas,  we  find  him  at  Cadiz,  in  consultation  Wellington 
with  the  Cortes,  by  whom  a decree  was  issued,1  on  at  Cadiz, 
the  6th  of  January,  defining  the  powers  of  commanders,  in  dis- 
tinction from  those  of  civil  officers,  and  providing  for  the  main- 
tenance of  each  army.  On  the  17th,  the  Regency  appointed  to 
Wellington  a sufficient  staff  to  insure  his  communication  wdth 
different  portions  of  his  armies.  We  find  him  spoken  of  in 
Spanish  documents  as  the  Duke  of  Ciudad  Rodrigo,  and  in 
Portuguese,  as  the  Marquess  of  Torres  Vedras,  while  the  English 
were  learning  to  call  him  the  Marquess  of  Wellington.  On  the 
16th  of  January  he  appeared  at  Lisbon,  and  transacted  r. , 

i . rr  . . n/  . . . . . At  Lisboa 

a good  deal  of  business,  amidst  such  festivities  as  had 
rarely  been  witnessed.  The  mountains  echoed  back  the  roar  of 
cannon,  the  place  wras  in  a blaze  with  illuminations,  and,  at  the 
great  theatre,  Wellington  had  probably  leisure  for  his  own 
thoughts  while,  before  his  eyes,  “ Glory,  Posterity,  and  Cam- 
oens  ” wrere  talking  about  him  in  the  Elysian  fields,  and  pre- 
senting each  other  with  scrolls,  containing  the  names  of  his  vic- 
tories. 

In  February,  the  French  began  to  move.  They  made  an 
attack  upon  a post  in  Leon,  but  failed,  and  retired,  campaign 
They  seemed  to  be  now  retiring  in  various  directions,  of  1813- 
as  might  be  expected  after  the  adversity  of  their  Emperor  in 
Russia.  Their  “ army  of  the  South  ” was  no  longer  in  the  south, 
1 Annual  Register,  1813,  p.  141. 


366  THE  ARMIES  CONFRONT  EACH  OTHER.  [Book  II. 


but  drawn  together  between  Talavera,  Toledo,  and  Madrid. 
Their  “army  of  Portugal”  was  drawing  off,  retiring  from  Val- 
French  re-  ladolid  to  Burgos,  reducing  the  garrison  of  Leon,  but 

tire  north-  strengthening  the  fortress  of  Bilbao ; from  which  it 

was  concluded  that  they  meant  to  hold  their  footing  in 
Spain  by  means  of  the  strong  places  at  the  base  of  the  Pyrenees. 
In  April,  the  French  in  Biscay  took  a post  from  which  they  had 
been  twice  repulsed.  There  was  some  fighting,  too,  with  “ the 
army  of  the  East,”  under  Suchet,  in  which  the  French  were 
beaten  and  driven  back  by  the  allies.  This  was  all  the  activity 
shown  in  warfare  before  the  beginning  of  the  summer.  Wel- 
lington was  compelled  to  wait  for  reinforcements  and  equip- 
ments, and  for  the  recovery  of  his  sick  ; and  the  French  were 
occupied  with  the  marchings  and  rearrangement  of  their  troops, 
under  the  orders  of  the  Emperor.  He  sent  companies  of  con- 
scripts, and  summoned  away  1200  officers  and  22,000  soldiers. 

When  the  enemy  had,  for  some  time,  withdrawn  from  the 
Wellington  Tagus  to  the  Douro,  Wellington  set  forth,  and  reached 
pursues.  Salamanca  on  the  26th  of  May.  From  that  time  till 
the  middle  of  June,  his  march  was  a mere  following  of  the  en- 
emy, doing  them  an  occasional  mischief,  till  there  was  a brief 
pause  before  Burgos.  Being  forced  to  a decision  about  holding 
or  vacating  the  castle,  the  French  retired;  crossing,  with  excel- 
lent skill  and  order,  that  dangerous  bridge  over  which  the  Brit- 
ish had,  last  year,  stolen  in  the  night.  They  destroyed,  as  far 
as  they  could,  the  defences  which  had  cost  them  so  much  in  the 
erection,  and  retired  towards  the  foot  of  the  Pyrenees.  The 
allied  army  crossed  the  Ebro,  to  the  west  of  the  French,  on  the 
road  to  Vittoria,  where  almost  the  whole  mass  of  the  French 
armies,  commanded  by  King  Joseph,  took  post,  on  the  night  of 
the  19th  of  June.  On  the  20th,  the  two  armies  were  in  face  of 
each  other,  and  anticipated  a battle  the  next  day. 

This  concentration  of  the  French  forces  had  taken  place  by 
the  express  command  of  Napoleon.  It  was  rendered  necessary, 
not  only  by  the  approach  of  Wellington,  but  by  the  formidable 
spread  of  what  the  Emperor  and  Joseph  called  the  “ insurrec- 
tion ” of  the  inhabitants  throughout  the  northern  provinces. 
The  Guerrillas,  formed  into  strong  bands,  supported  the  allies  ; 
and  the  country  people  supported  the  Guerrillas  : and  the  conse- 
quence was,  that  the  communications  of  the  invaders  were  so 
constantly  intercepted,  that,  while  all  their  plans  were  known  to 
the  enemy,  each  general  was  in  the  dark  about  all  the  rest.  All 
chance  of  concert,  and  of  keeping  their  own  counsel,  was  lost, 
unless  they  met,  face  to  face  ; so,  here  they  were,  collected  before 
Vittoria,  occupying  the  valley  of  the  Zadora,  and  commanding 
the  passage  of  the  river,  from  a height  in  the  centre.  Here  they 


Chap.  VI.]  THEIR  NUMBERS  AND  POSITIONS. 


3G7 


must  fight ; for  there  was  no  retreat  for  them  into  Biscay.  They 
held  two  fortresses  there  ; but  the  Guerrillas  had  pressed  them 
southwards  with  such  unremitting  energy,  occupying  all  the 
passes  as  they  went,  that  no  French  were  left  in  the  province 
— except  the  garrisons  — and  the  British  ships  sailed  into  all 
the  ports,  amidst  the  joyous  shouts  of  the  inhabitants.  All  the 
baggage-trains  of  the  French  were  now  collected  in  the  basin 
of  Vittoria,  and  70,000  men  .were  placed  to  protect  their  re- 
moval into  France.  With  the  military  stores  were  packed 
5,500,000  dollars  in  cash  ; 1 and  some  articles  in  no  way  mili- 
tary : the  archives  and  museums  of  Madrid,  and  all  the  valua- 
ble paintings  — • the  Titians,  Raffaelles,  and  Correggios,  of  the 
southern  convents,  as  well  as  the  Murillos  and  Velasquez  taken 
from  the  palaces  of  the  great.  All  this  wealth  was  so  much 
embarrassment  during  the  halt  before  Vittoria,  if,  indeed,  it  was 
not  the  chief  compulsion  to  halt  at  all  in  the  face  of  the  British. 
The  choice  seems  to  have  been  between  leaving  all  this  baggage 
to  the  British,  in  order  to  cross  the  mountains  without  encum- 
brance, or  having  a fight  for  it.  Joseph  could  not  bring  himself 
to  endure  so  shameful  a loss  ; and  there  was  therefore  a fight. 
Two  convoys  were  sent  away,  by  the  road  to  Bayonne  ; the 
royal  treasure,  artillery,  and  ammunition,  of  course,  remaining 
with  the  army. 

After  the  convoys,  well  guarded,  had  been  sent  off,  Joseph’s 
army  still  amounted  to  70,000  men  ; and  he  had  150  pieces  of 
cannon.  Wellington  had  90  guns,  and  80,000  men  ; but  of  these 
men  18,000  were  Spaniards,  and  therefore  (for  his  present  pur- 
pose) inferior  troops.  In  regard  to  position,  the  French  had 
greatly  the  advantage ; for  the  allies  had  to  pass  several  bridges 
and  streams  to  get  at  the  enemy.  There  was,  however,  only 
one  good  road  open  to  the  French,  — the  great  road  to  Bayonne  ; 
and  it  was  one  of  difficulty  for  carriages  ; while  the  allies  had 
all  Spain  behind  them.  The  main  object  was  to  turn  the  F rench 
right,  obtain  possession  of  the  bridge  over  the  Zadora,  and  thus 
cut  off  the  retreat  by  the  Bayonne  road,  while  the  main  body  of 
the  allied  army  brought  its  pressure  to  bear  in  front.  This  press- 
ure must  be  borne  by  not  more  than  50,000  men  ; for  Joseph 
had  detached  20,000  to  keep  in  check  the  Biscayan  Guerrillas, 
and  other  possible  auxiliaries  of  the  British,  who  might  come 
down  at  a critical  moment  to  help  the  fight.  These  50,000  were, 
however,  the  choicest  of  the  troops,  and  prodigiously  strong,  as 
has  been  seen,  in  guns.  It  is  scarcely  possible  to  conceive  a more 
critical  struggle  than  this  must  be. 

The  troops  of  the  allies  were  in  motion  at  day  - break  ; 
and  the  heights  on  which  the  French  right  rested  vittoria. 
i Alison’s  History,  ix.  pp.  757,  758. 


368 


DEFEAT  AND  RETREAT  OF  FRENCH.  [Book  II. 


were  won  by  desperate  fighting,  in  which  French,  British,  and 
Spaniards  showed  equal  valor.  The  central  body  of  the  allies 
found  great  difficulty  at  the  bridges ; but  a peasant  brought  in- 
formation of  one  bridge  being  weakly  guarded,  and  bravely  led 
the  way  to  it,  and  over  it.  By  one  o’clock,  some  of  the  British 
were  on  the  other  side ; and,  after  some  further  struggle,  the 
French  began  to  retreat  upon  the  town  ; but  in  excellent  order, 
and  with  great  deliberation,  facing  about  at  every  favorable  point, 
to  renew  the  conflict.  Their  destruction  was,  by  this  time, 
approaching  from  their  right,  where  the  gallant  old  officer,  Sir 
Thomas  Graham,  was  driving  them  in,  and  possessing  himself 
of  the  road  to  Bayonne.  The  cry  spread  among  the  French  that 
the  road  was  gone,  and  they  were  all  lost.  Still,  they  retreated 
in  order,  keeping  up  a running  fight  for  six  miles,  and  doing  vast 
damage  with  the  guns  in  their  rear  ; and  it  was  not  till  the  whole 
force  were  driven  back,  with  such  of  their  guns  as  they  had 
brought  off,  into  the  little  plain  under  the  walls  of  Yittoria,  that 
they  fairly  took  to  flight.  They  would  have  escaped  by  the 
rough  mountain  road  to  Pamplona ; but  an  overturned  wagon 
was  enough,  in  such  a road,  to  prevent  the  passage  of  their  guns. 
Beyond  the  city  was  seen  1 a helpless  mass  of  army  followers, 
jammed  in  with  the  carriages  and  animals,  and  frantic  with  ter- 
ror. As  the  English  cannon  went  booming  over  their  heads, 
they  uttered  a horrid  dull  cry  of  misery,  and  swayed  to  and  fro, 
in  mortal  panic.  Still,  eighty  cannon  remained  available  ; and 
these,  worked  by  artillery-men,  actually  mad  with  excitement, 
kept  up  a deafening  reverberation  among  the  hills.  Before  night 
closed  in,  these  were  silenced,  and  the  whole  multitude  of  the 
French  were  gone,  carrying  with  them  nothing  whatever  but  two 
guns.  No  one,  from  general  to  camp-follower,  had  anything  left 
but  the  clothes  he  wore  ; and  most  of  them  were  barefooted. 
Yet,  the  loss  of  life  on  the  French  side  was  small.  The  soldiery 
complained  that  they  had  no  fair  chance ; and,  in  truth,  they 
were  ill  commanded.  The  British  themselves  declared  that  their 
enemy  was  not  half  beaten.  There  they  were,  wandering  in 
marshes,  and  rocky  passes,  stripped  of  everything,  even  to  the 
warrants  for  their  pay  ; their  colors  lost ; their  honor  gone ; and 
they  able  and  willing  to  have  made  a better  stand,  if  allowed  ! 
Their  enemy,  even  in  the  midst  of  victory,  pitied  them.  On 
their  side,  about  6000  fell ; on  the  side  of  the  allies,  a little 
above  5000  killed,  wounded,  and  missing  — chiefly  British.  Of 
the  money,  not  one  dollar  ever  reached  Wellington’s  head-quar- 
ters. Even  officers  were  seen  contending  with  the  soldiers  for 
the  cash.2 

King  Joseph  and  his  troops  pushed  on  night  and  day  towards 
1 Napier’s  History,  v.  p.  561.  2 Ibid.  p.  566. 


Chap.  VI.] 


EVACUATION  OF  MADRID. 


369 


Pamplona,  toiling  through  the  mud  of  the  valleys,  under  rain, 
and  amidst  grievous  hardships.  They  could  not  stop  Retreat  of 
to  destroy  the  bridges,  knowing  that  the  British  the  French* 
were  at  their  heels  ; so  they  burned  the  villages  as  they  passed. 
On  the  23d,  Joseph  halted,  and  sent  orders  to  the  French  fron- 
tier, to  prepare  food  and  comfort  for  his  fugitives.  He  despatched 
a force  to  the  Bidassoa  — the  old  boundary  river  ; and  forwarded 
the  main  body  of  his  soldiers  to  Pamplona,  where  he  followed 
them  on  the  24th.  So  ragged,  jaded,  hungry,  and  excited  was 
his  miserable  army,  that  the  governor  of  Pamplona  dared  not 
admit  them  into  the  town  ; and  Joseph  found  them  bivouacked 
outside.  The  British  were  so  near  that  they  this  day  captured 
one  of  the  two  guns  that  the  French  had  carried  off.  Joseph 
continued  his  flight  the  next  day,  up  the  valley  of  Roncesvalles, 
and  the  British  invested  Pamplona.  Joseph  sent  back  a division 
of  his  army  to  hold  the  valley  of  Bastan,  in  order  to  keep  some 
footing  over  the  frontier;  but  they  were  presently  Western 
driven  out ; and  the  whole  frontier  line,  from  Ronces-  frontier 
valles  to  the  junction  of  the  Bidassoa  with  the  sea,  clear‘ 
was  held  by  the  allies. 

Wellington  had  had  time  to  consider  and  aid  the  ladies  of  the 
French  officers,  and  other  helpless  creatures  who  had  fallen  into 
his  hands.  He  sent  the  officers’  wives  forward  in  their  own 
carriages  to  Pamplona.  What  became  of  the  poodles,  parrots, 
and  monkeys,  the  laces,  trinkets,  and  costly  dresses,  which  were 
found  scattered  over  the  field,  on  the  night  of  the  21st,  probably 
no  one  can  tell.  There  is  a Correggio  (Christ  in  the  Garden) 
now  hanging  up  in  Wellington’s  house,  which  was  found  in  Jo- 
seph’s carriage,  the  moment  he  had  leaped  out  of  it,  and  sprung 
on  horseback,  to  escape  capture,  that  evening.  Marshal  Jour- 
dan’s  baton  was  also  taken.  On  the  27th,  the  last  of 
the  French  left  Madrid;  and  the  whole  of  Spain,  as  nd  - a n • 
far  as  the  Ebro,  was  cleared  of  the  invaders.  Immediately  before 
the  battle  of  Vittoria  the  calm  of  Wellington’s  mind  was  so  little 
disturbed  by  the  approach  of  the  crisis,  that  he  addressed  a full 
and  clear  memorial  to  the  Cortes,1  pleading  for  an  amnesty  for 
those  of  the  Spaniards  who  had  acquiesced  in  the  occupation  of 
their  country  by  the  French.  He  clearly  saw  the  mischief  and 
misery  of  any  indulgence  by  the  Cortes  of  vindictive  feeling  ; and 
he  no  less  distinctly  felt  for  the  weakness  and  discouragement  of 
the  luxurious  classes  of  a nation  in  the  presence  of  invaders  sup- 
posed to  be  irresistible.  While  those  for  whom  he  pleaded  were 
still  in  the  ranks  of  the  French  army,  he  thought  of  them  with 
compassion,  and  of  their  position  with  a circumspection  at  once 
politic  and  humane.  Now  that  they  were  left  behind  in  their 

i Despatches,  x.  p.  430. 

24 


VOL.  I. 


370 


STORMING  OF  ST.  SEBASTIAN. 


[Book  IL 


own  country,  he  did  his  best  to  enable  them  to  slink  home  unmo- 
lested, and  fancy  themselves  Spanish  patriots  again,  as  soon  as 
they  could. 

A few  French  strongholds  remained  to  be  reduce  ! : Pamplona, 
Failure  at  and  Sebastian  and  Santona  on  the  coast.  The  fi- 
st. Sebas-  nal  efforts  on  both  sides  were  hard,  and  attended  with 
tian‘  fluctuating  fortune.  An  attack  on  St.  Sebastian,  on 

the  24th  of  July,  was  disastrous  to  the  British,  who,  after  a 
bloody  repulse,  were  obliged  to  display  a flag  of  truce,  in  order 
to  save  their  wounded  from  being  drowned  by  the  rising  tide. 
The  noble-hearted  French  governor,  Rey,  responded  to  this  by 
drawing  up  the  wounded  over  his  defences,  and  placing  them  in 
his  hospitals.  As  soon  as  Wellington  heard  of  the  disaster,  he 
hastened  to  the  place.  He  would  have  renewed  the  attack,  but 
for  the  want  of  ammunition  which  ought  to  have  arrived  from 
England  before  that  time.  Failing  this,  he  converted  the  siege 
into  a blockade  — it  being  of  the  utmost  importance  to  stop  the 
intercourse  which  had  been  going  on  between  the  port  of  St.  Se- 
bastian and  the  French  coast.  The  blockading  force  suffered 
some  disasters ; and,  while  it  was  before  the  fortress,  the  enemy 
had  some  successes  above  Pamplona.  They  drove  the  allies 
down  the  valley  of  Roncesvalles,  almost  to  the  walls  of  Pam- 
plona. The  tide  turned,  however ; and  once  more  the  French 
were  pushed  up  towards  their  frontier,  by  prodigious  efforts, 
made  in  Wellington’s  presence,  and  by  Spanish  troops  among 
others  — all  equally  distinguishing  themselves.  They  had  a 
more  formidable  enemy  than  the  expelled  King  Joseph  to  deal 
with  now,  Napoleon  having  made  Marshal  Soult  Commander- 
in- Chief  of  all  his  forces  in  Spain,  and  of  the  southern  provinces 
of  France. 

On  the  30th  of  July,  Saragossa  surrendered  to  the  Guerrilla 
Saragossa  chief,  Mina.  Lord  W.  Bentinck  could  not  take  Tar- 
taken  by  ragona,  in  the  face  of  the  overpowering  force  in 
which  the  French  under  Suchet  came  up  against  him; 
but  as  it  was  necessary  for  the  French  to  retire,  they  themselves 
blew  up  the  works  ; which  answered  very  well  the  purposes  of 
the  allies.  Towards  the  end  of  August,  Wellington  observed 
that  the  French  were  gathering  all  their  forces  to  one  point  — 
obviously  for  some  important  effort.  He  was  as  well  aware  as 
they  were  of  the  value  of  St.  Sebastian  to  them,  and  was  ac- 
cordingly prepared  for  their  effort  to  relieve  the  fortress.  The 
French  charged  the  Spanish  an  1 Portuguese  forces  repeatedly, 
over  the  boundary  river,  the  Bidassoa  ; and  they  were  so  re- 
pulsed that  they  drew  off  behind  the  screen  of  a violent  storm. 
The  town  of  St.  Sebastian  was  taken  by  storm  on  the  last  day 
of  August ; but  the  castle  still  held  out.  The  garrison  was  daily 


Chap.  VI.]  WELLINGTON  ENTERS  FRANCE. 


371 


thinned  by  the  British  fire  ; and  still  the  gallant  Rey  held  out. 
His  opponent,  however,  was  equally  gallant  — the  venerable  Sir 
Thomas  Graham.  He  was  employing  every  hour  in  preparing 
his  batteries  for  the  final  assault  of  the  castle.  On  the  8th  of 
September,  these  batteries  opened  their  fire  ; and  the  st.  Sebas- 
weakened  garrison  could  not  sustain  it.  In  three  tian* 
hours,  they  hoisted  a flag  of  truce,  and  a capitulation  was  soon 
agreed  upon.  The  garrison  remained  prisoners  of  war  — as 
in  every  case  of  capture  of  these  frontier  fortresses,  because 
it  would  have  been  mischievous  to  allow  the  hovering  French 
armies  to  be  reinforced  by  the  veteran  soldiers  of  their  best  gar- 
risons. The  66  northern  Gibraltar,”  as  St.  Sebastian  was  called, 
was  thus  transferred  from  the  hands  of  the  invaders  to  those  of 
the  deliverers  of  Spain ; and  it  was  to  each  a possession  of  the 
highest  value.  Sir  George  Collier,  who  assisted,  from  the  sea, 
in  its  capture,  described  its  being  held  by  the  British  as  essential 
to  the  conclusion  of  the  war.  The  slaughter  before  St.  Sebas- 
tian was  severe ; but  it  is  infinitely  more  painful  to  read  of  the 
subsequent  transactions  within  it.  The  brutality  of  the  victors 
converted  that  sandy  peninsula  into  the  very  heart  of  hell.  The 
historian  tells  us  1 how  at  Ciudad  Rodrigo  there  had  been  drunk- 
enness and  plunder,  and  at  Badajoz,  in  addition  to  these,  lust  and 
murder ; but  now,  to  all  these  was  added  devilish  cruelty,  — cru- 
elty “ which  staggers  the  mind  by  its  enormous,  incredible,  inde- 
scribable barbarity.”  The  sickening  hearts  of  brave  men  told 
them  that  it  was  time  the  war  was  over,  as  every  conquest 
plunged  the  men  who  made  up  the  “ perfect  machine  ” of  Welling- 
ton’s army  deeper  into  devilishness.  On  the  9th,  the  Governor 
marched  out,  with  the  remnant  of  his  men,  graced  by  the  hon- 
ors of  war.  The  Spanish  flag  was  hoisted,  after  a siege  of  63 
days,  and  immediately  the  stormy  autumn  weather  came  on, 
under  which  no  blockade  could  have  been  sustained  from  the  sea 
on  that  exposed  coast. 

Wellington  entered  France  before  Spain  was  wholly  freed. 
Pamplona  still  stood  out  when  the  allies,  under  Wei-  Wellino.ton 
lington,  crossed  the  Bidassoa,  on  the  7th  of  October,  enters8 
Soult  knew  not  what  to  expect  — whether  Welling-  Frauce- 
ton  meant  merely  to  protect  the  investment  of  Pamplona,  or 
whether  he  would  cross  the  frontier.  The  last  thing  he  dreamed 
of  was  that  the  British  would  cross  the  Bidassoa  at  its  mouth  — 
amidst  shifting  sands  and  tides,  in  unsettled  weather,  when  a 
better  way  over  was  in  their  possession.  This,  however,  was 
what  Wellington  designed  and  did.  He  had  been  shown,  by 
Spanish  fishermen,  three  fords  unknown  to  Soult’s  army  ; and 
these,  in  addition  to  the  known  fords  and  bridges,  enabled  him  to 
1 Napier’s  History,  vi.  p.  205. 


372 


PAMPLONA  TAKEN. 


[Book  II. 


send  over  seven  columns  at  once.  He  had  left  liis  tents  all  stand- 
ing; so  that  the  French  suspected  nothing  (being  moreover  oc- 
cupied with  a storm  which  fell  on  them  from  behind)  till  the 
allies  were  actually  making  the  passage.  Not  a shot  was  fired 
on  the  French  side  till  the  allies  were  formed  on  the  right  bank 
of  the  river. 

Here  was  Wellington  out  of  Spain  again  ! He  had  entered  it 
from  Portugal,  whence  he  had  driven  the  French  before  him  ; 
and  he  now  left  it  for  France,  still  driving  the  French  before  him. 
There  was  some  wonder  at  the  time  why  he  aimed  at  making  a 
lodgment  in  France  while  Pamplona  still  held  out.  He  did  it 
by  desire  of  the  northern  allies,  now  advancing  on  the  German 
side.  They  conceived  that  it  would  strengthen  the  heart  of  the 
world  if  France  were  actually  invaded  ; and  Wellington  made 
the  attempt  — formidable  as  it  was  to  him  at  that  time.  There 
were  three  days  of  fighting,  at  the  end  of  which  the  allies  were 
in  possession  of  the  hill  fortifications  with  which  the  French  had 
been  long  and  assiduously  protecting  their  frontier.  Once  more, 
both  the  great  generals  were  grieved  and  annoyed  by  the  brutal- 
ity of  the  soldiery.1  Soult  shot  a captain  of  some  reputation  for 
having  permitted  his  men  to  plunder  ; and  Wellington  arrested  and 
sent  to  England  several  officers,  issuing  a proclamation  in  which 
he  declared  that  he  would  not  invade  France  with  five  times 
his  number  of  men,  if  he  could  not  guard  against  marauding. 

At  present,  he  paused..  He  could  not  think  of  crossing  the 
Pamplona  Adour,  and  was  doubtful  whether  he  could  maintain 
taken.  his  new  position,  if  the  allies  in  Germany  did  not  obtain 
a decisive  advantage,  and  if  Pamplona  did  not  speedily  fall.  Pam- 
plona did  fall,  almost  immediately.  On  the  26th  of  October  the 
garrison  proposed  conditions  which  were  refused  ; and  on  the  31st 
they  surrendered  as  prisoners  of  war.  The  whole  of  this  part 
of  Spain  was  now  clear  of  the  enemy ; and  Wellington’s  right, 
hitherto  detained  by  the  blockade  of  the  fortress,  was  at  liberty 
for  other  service.  Thus  reinforced,  the  British  resumed  the  offen- 
sive against  Soult,  and  in  the  course  of  a November  day  drove 
back  the  French  beyond  the  Nivelle,  compelled  them  to  evacuate 
their  own  great  works  at  St.  Jean  de  Luz,  and  left  them  no  rest 
till  they  reached  their  fortified  camp  before  Bayonne.  The  gal- 
lant Soult  contended  well.  When  half  the  allied  army  had 
crossed  the  river  Nive  in  order  to  command  the  navigation  of  the 
Adour,  and  cut  off  Soult’s  supplies  from  the  country,  Soult  fell 
upon  the  half  that  remained  on  the  left  bank  ; and  it  was  hard 
work  to  maintain  the  ground.  Aid  came  from  over  the  river, 
and  once  more  Soult  was  driven  back,  amid  the  rains  and  mud 
of  December.  In  the  night,  there  was  an  extraordinary  com- 
1 Napier’s  History,  vi.  p.  268. 


THE  ALLIES  IN  FRANCE. 


Chap.  VI.] 


373 


motion  in  the  British  camp  — drums  beating,  and  drawing  up  of 
battalions,  and  arms  presented.  Three  German  regi-  Accesgion 
ments  had  come  over  to  the  British,  — having  heard,  0fC  three* 
no  doubt,  of  the  new  prospects  of  freedom  that  were  Regiments 
opening  on  their  own  country.  Their  officers  quoted 
the  commands  of  their  prince,  secretly  conveyed  to  them  ; and 
the  occurrence  of  this  night  was  immediately  reported  by  French 
and  English  to  their  respective  commanders  in  Catalonia,  where 
some  German  regiments  were  in  Suchet’s  force.  Suchet  had 
been  already  warned,  and  had  disarmed  his  German  soldiers  — 
at  a time  when  he  could  ill  spare  the  services  of  some  of  his  best 
troops.  These  incidents  show  how  rapidly  the  tide  of  Napo- 
leon’s fortunes  was  now  turning  ; and  the  end  of  the  campaign 
of  1813  must  have  sorely  mortified  him  His  Commander-in- 
Chief  of  the  south  was  cooped  up  with  his  army  in  an  entrenched 
camp  before  Bayonne,  cut  off  from  all  supplies  but  such  as  came 
by  land-carriage  across  the  dreary  plains  that  stretched  north  to 
Bordeaux;  while  the  allies  spread  themselves  out  in  The  allies 
comfortable  cantonments,  on  ground  which  had  been  in  France- 
won  by  a severe  sacrifice  in  killed  and  prisoners,  but  which  now 
secured  the  fruits  of  the  whole  campaign.  The  Allies  had  on 
their  right  one  of  the  most  fertile  districts  of  France;  and  they 
held  the  rivers  which  brought  down  the  produce.  On  their  left 
they  had  the  sea ; and  their  own  vessels  now  began  to  crowd  the 
ports,  bringing  them  whatever  they  wanted.  The  soldiers  behaved 
well  in  quiet  seasons ; and  the  peasants  found  themselves  so  well 
treated  and  paid,  that  they  came  to  market  more  regularly  than 
they  had  ever  done  before.  A strong  liking  for  the  British  was 
now  added  to  the  growing  dislike  of  Napoleon  and  his  exactions 
in  the  minds  of  the  peasantry.  The  conscripts  in  Soult’s  camp 
stole  away,  and  went  home  by  thousands  ; and  there  was  little 
zeal  for  their  Emperor  now  left  among  the  inhabitants  of  this 
portion  of  his  kingdom  of  France.  Great  efforts  were  required 
on  the  part  of  the  English  government,  and  much  self-denial  on 
that  of  the  troops,  to  keep  up  this  system  of  honorable  pay- 
ment. But  it  was  done,  though  the  army  was  left  seven  months 
in  arrear,  and  the  authorities  under  a load  of  debt  in  the  Pen- 
insula. 

When  the  English  government  found  that  the  sum  of  100,000/. 
a month,  which  it  cost  them  infinite  trouble  to  raise,  went  but  a 
little  way  towards  Wellington’s  necessities,1  they  proposed  to 
him  to  leave  his  new  conquests,  take  ship  with  his  forces,  and 
pass  round  to  join  the  northern  allies  in  the  Netherlands.  It  was 
the  Emperor  of  Russia  who  suggested  this.  Wellington’s  obedi- 
ence was  ready,  as  usual ; but  he  showed  reasons  for  concluding 
1 Alison’s  History,  x.  p.  303. 


374 


JOY  IN  ENGLAND. 


[Book  II. 


that  he  was  more  useful  where  he  was.  He  was  probably  una- 
ware that  one  of  the  French  officials  was  writing  about  that  time 
from  Bayonne,1  “ The  English  general’s  policy,  and  the  good  dis- 
cipline he  maintains,  do  us  more  harm  than  ten  battles.  Every 
peasant  wishes  to  be  under  his  protection.”  His  army  was  now 
prodigiously  strong,  — amounting,  through  various  reinforcements, 
to  100,000  men,  when  he  set  forth  for  the  final  campaign.  Soult’s 
force  was  so  weakened  by  the  Emperor’s  needs,  that,  after  deduct- 
ing the  troops  left  in  garrison,  he  had  not  more  than  40,000  to 
bring  into  the  field.  It  seemed  imprudent  at  such  a moment  to 
stop  short  of  his  overthrow,  and  to  enable  him  to  release  his  gar- 
risons, and  repair  to  the  Emperor  with  such  a reinforcement ; so 
Wellington  was  allowed  to  complete  his  work  in  his  own  way. 
Just  at  the  same  time,2  Soult  urged  Napoleon  to  allow  him  to 
come  to  his  aid  against  the  northern  allies,  as  he  could  do  noth- 
ing more  against  Wellington.  He  advised  that  Bayonne  should 
be  left  with  14,000  men  in  garrison  ; and  that  a small  French 
force  should  harass  the  British  and  Spanish  from  the  passes  of 
the  Pyrenees,  while  he  drew  back  to  a more  promising  scene  of 
conflict.  But  Napoleon  could  not  yet  endure  the  idea  of  giving 
up  anything ; and  he  commanded  Soult  to  hold  his  position  near 
the  Adour.  With  the  conflict  about  this  position  — that  is,  about 
the  possession  of  Bayonne  — the  last  campaign  began,  on  the 
14th  of  February,  1814.  The  British  army  and  its  commander 
had  every  reason  to  go  forth  with  bold  and  light  hearts.  The 
joy  in  Eng-  greetings  from  their  country  had  been  such  as  might 
iand.  cheer  any  spirit.  Parliament  had  met  at  the  close  of 

the  year  — full  in  numbers,  joyful  in  spirit,  and  more  nearly 
unanimous  than  perhaps  any  parliament  had  ever  shown  itself 
before.  Above  all  names  praised  was  that  of  Wellington  ; above 
all  the  armies  congratulated  and  cheered  on,  was  that  of  the  Pen- 
insula. Men  who  had  never  been  eloquent  before  were  eloquent 
now,  and  there  was  new  fire  in  the  oratory  of  the  finest  speakers. 
Some  of  them  pointed  out  how  mighty  had  been  the  fame  of  Na- 
poleon’s great  marshals,  Massena,  Marmont,  Jourdan,  and  Soult ; 
how  persuaded  the  whole  world  had  been  that  they  were  invinci- 
ble : yet  our  Wellington  had  forced  Massena  out  of  Portugal, 
beaten  Marmont  at  Salamanca,  routed  Jourdan  at  Vittoria,  and 
overcome  Soult  on  his  own  French  ground,  where  he  might  be 
expected  now  to  annihilate  the  enemy’s  force,  and  bring  the  war 
to  a conclusion  on  that  side.  The  newspapers  had  before  told  of 
the  illuminations  in  London  growing  more  and  more  frequent,  as 
the  tidings  of  Wellington’s  victories  came  thicker  and  thicker; 
and  of  the  display  of  the  captured  French  eagles  in  Downing 
Street,  and  of  the  popular  enthusiasm  rising  from  day  to  day ; 

1 Napier’s  History,  vi.  p 507.  2 Ibid.  pp.  512-514. 


Chap.  VI.]  NAPOLEON  TREATS  WITH  FERDINAND.  375 


and  it  was  with  the  knowledge  of  this  national  sympathy  and  ad- 
miration, that  the  troops  under  Wellington  set  forth  over  the 
frozen  roads,  on  the  14th  of  February,  hoping  to  send  home 
some  news  for  parliament  to  rejoice  over,  before  its  meeting  (after 
a long  adjournment)  in  March.  At  this  time,  however,  the  troops 
of  the  allies  in  Catalonia  were  paralyzed,  when  just  about  to 
take  their  last  measures  against  Suchet,  and,  as  they  hoped,  drive 
out  the  last  of  the  French  from  Spain.  An  envoy  arrived  from 
the  captive  Ferdinand,  with  the  news  that  Ferdinand  Napoleon?s 
and  Napoleon  had  made  a treaty,  and  that  the  Span-  treaty  with 
iards  might  not  fight  the  French  any  more,  nor  permit  Ferdlnand- 
the  English  to  do  so  on  their  soil.  Ferdinand  had  been  a pris- 
oner at  Valengay  for  five  years  and  a half ; and  during  that  time 
he  had,  by  his  own  account,  known  nothing  of  what  was  doing 
in  Spain,  but  from  the  French  newspapers.  The  notion  upper- 
most in  his  little  mind  at  this  time  appears  to  have  been  that  the 
Cortes  and  the  liberal  party  in  Spain  were  “ Jacobins  and  infidels,” 
and  that  it  was  all-important  that  he  should  return,  to  restore 
absolutism  and  the  Inquisition.  In  sending  to  Spain  the  treaty 
he  had  made  with  Napoleon,  he  took  no  notice  whatever  of  the 
Cortes,  but  addressed  himself  solely  to  the  Regency ; and  with 
them,  his  business  was  to  consult  whether  he  should  adhere  to 
the  treaty  or  break  through  it ; which  he  might  easily  do  on  the 
plea  that  it  was  an  extorted  act,  agreed  to  under  deficient  knowl- 
edge of  the  state  of  Spain.  Thus  crooked  was  the  policy,  even 
at  the  moment  of  restoration,  of  the  foolish  prince  who  seems  to 
have  had  no  ability  for  anything  but  mean  and  petty  intrigue. 

The  terms  of  the  treaty  might  easily  be  anticipated  from  the 
circumstances  under  which  it  was  made.  Napoleon  wanted  to 
shake  out  the  British  from  his  southwestern  quarter;  he  was  in 
great  need  of  the  veteran  French  troops  who  were  prisoners  in 
Spain ; and  he  had  no  longer  any  hope  of  restoring  his  brother 
Joseph.  The  treaty  of  December,  1813, 1 therefore  provided 
that  Ferdinand  and  his  successors  should  be  recognized  as  mon- 
archs  of  Spain  and  of  the  Indies ; that  the  territory  of  Spain 
should  be  what  it  had  been  before  the  war  — the  French  giving 
up  any  hold  they  had  there  ; that  Ferdinand  should  maintain  the 
integrity  of  this  territory,  clearing  it  completely  of  the  British  ; 
that  F ranee  and  Spain  should  ally  themselves  to  maintain  their 
maritime  rights  against  England ; that  all  the  Spaniards  who 
had  adhered  to  King  Joseph  should  be  reinstated  in  whatever 
they  had  enjoyed  under  him  ; that  all  prisoners  on  both  sides 
should  immediately  be  sent  home ; and  that  Joseph  and  his  wife 
should  receive  large  annuities  from  Spain. 

The  General  of  the  Spanish  forces  in  Catalonia,  Copons,  was 
1 Alison’s  History,  x.  p.  41. 


376 


INTRIGUES  AND  NEGOTIATIONS.  [Book  II. 


in  so  much  haste  to  conclude  a separate  armistice  for  himself, 
with  Suchet,  without  any  regard  to  his  British  comrades,  that 
the  Cortes  had  to  act  with  the  utmost  rapidity  to  prevent  it. 
Since  the  Cortes  had  invested  themselves  with  executive,  as  well 
as  legislative  power,  the  Regency  had  become  a mere  show ; and 
ifcs  rejection  now,  when  the  Cortes  instantly  quashed  the  treaty,  the 
in  Spain.  Regency  followed  the  example.  On  the  8th  of  Janu- 
ary,1 the  Regency  let  his  Majesty  know  how  much  he  was  be- 
loved and  desired ; but  also,  how  impossible  it  was  to  ratify  any 
act  done  by  him  while  in  a state  of  captivity.  As  Napoleon 
could  not  get  back  his  troops  from  Spain  in  this  way,  he  tried 
another.  He  released  some  of  Ferdinand’s  chief  officers,  and 
sent  them  to  him,  with  advocates  of  his  own,  to  arrange  about  an 
end  to  the  war,  and  exchanging  prisoners  ; and  General  Palafox, 
one  of  the  late  captives,  went  to  Madrid,  where,  however,  he  met 
with  no  better  success  than  his  predecessor.  By  that  time  (the 
end  of  January)  it  was  settled  that  the  Spanish  treaty,  whatever 
it  might  be,  was  to  be  framed  under  the  sanction  of  the  Allies, 
at  the  Congress  of  Chatillon.  With  the  hope  of  paralyzing  the 
Spanish  forces  by  division,  Napoleon  sent  Ferdinand  back  to 
intrigues  in  Spain.  He  went  through  Catalonia,  and  arrived  in 
Catalonia.  his  own  dominions  on  the  24th  of  March.  The 
French  general  Suchet  escorted  him  along  part  of  the  route,  and, 
in  delivering  him  over  to  an  exclusively  Spanish  suite,  endeavored 
to  obtain  in  return  the  deliverance  of  the  French  garrisons  of 
Lerida,  Gerona,  and  several  other  fortresses  which  had  yielded 
during  the  month  of  February,  and  of  several  which  had  not  yet 
yielded ; but  General  Clinton  knew  well  that,  by  such  an  agree- 
ment, he  should  be  merely  sending  20,000  of  Napoleon’s  best 
troops  against  Wellington  ; and  he  retained  them  prisoners  of 
war. 

These  intrigues  and  negotiations  caused  extreme  vexation  to 
Wellington.  They  suddenly  stopped  every  attempt  to  expel  the 
French  from  Catalonia,  and  threatened  to  bring  into  the  field 
against  him  all  the  prisoners  he  had  left  behind  him  in  Spain  ; 
and  there  was  no  saying  how  the  winding-up  of  the  war  might  be 
delayed  or  injured  by  the  political  quarrels  which  were  sure  to 
break  out  whenever  Ferdinand  and  the  Cortes  came  into  col- 
lision. The  best  part  of  the  nation  was  pledged  to  the  Con- 
stitution framed  and  sworn  to  in  1812;  and  everybody  knew 
that  Ferdinand  would  never  cordially  agree  to  any  such  con- 
stitution. Wellington  had  hoped  that  the  war  might  be  con- 
cluded, and  the  British  be  freed  from  their  engagements  with 
Spain,  before  the  collision  took  place  ; but  now  it  seemed  that 
he  was  to  be  troubled  with  political  disorder,  and  probably  civil 
1 Despatches,  xi.  p.  480. 


Chap.  VI.]  FERDINAND.— CATALONIA  EVACUATED.  377 


war,  in  his  rear,  in  the  country  which  he  had  saved,  while  there 
was  yet  a French  army  before  his  face.  He  therefore  campaign 
lost  no  time  ; and  the  war  was  over  before  Ferdinand  of  1814- 
entered  Madrid.  It  was  on  the  14th  of  May1  that  he  entered 
Madrid,  his  carriage  drawn  by  the  populace.  As  l.e  went 
through  the  city  on  foot,  to  show  his  confidence,  the  Ferdinand 
people  cheered  him.  They  were  aware  of  some  at  home- 
suspicious  arrests,  but  were  willing  to  hope  that  they  were  merely 
precautionary.  Then  followed  the  complete  restoration  of  the 
religious  orders  to  the  predominance  which  had  been  found  in- 
tolerable before ; the  abolition  of  the  Cortes ; and  the  reestab- 
lishment of  the  Inquisition.  The  Constitution  had  been  rejected 
by  the  King  before  his  entry  into  Madrid.  In  a few  weeks,  the 
whole  country  was  distracted  with  discontent  and  fear ; and,  in  a 
few  months,  the  prisons  of  Madrid  were  so  overflowing  with 
state  prisoners  — ninety  being  arrested  on  one  September  night 
— that  convents  were  made  into  prisons  for  the  safe-keeping  of 
the  King’s  enemies.  Patriots  were  driven  into  the  mountains, 
and  became  banditti,  while  Ferdinand  was  making  arrests  right 
and  left,  coercing  the  press,  and  ceremoniously  conveying  to  the 
great  square,  to  be  there  burned  in  ignominy,  the  registers  of 
the  proceedings  of  the  late  Cortes.2 

Though  the  Spanish  authorities  had  refused  to  liberate  the 
French  garrisons,  Suchet  contrived  to  dismiss  10,000 
veterans  to  France,  during  the  negotiations;  and  he  evacuated 
then  stole  away  himself,  with  his  remaining  14,000, 
which  should  never  have  been  allowed  to  leave  Cata- 
lonia, by  the  rugged  roads,  and  rocky  defiles,  where  it  would 
have  been  easy  to  have  stopped  them.  Having  got  clear  off, 
Suchet  and  his  army  halted  at  Narbonne,  whence  he  could  at 
any  time  reinforce  Soult.  It  is  thought  that  if  he  had  at  once 
gone  to  join  Soult,  Wellington’s  position  must  have  been  a 
critical  one.  He  must  have  relied  on  a series  of  victories,  or 
been  compelled  to  a long  and  difficult  retreat.  Whether  it  was 
that  Suchet  did  not  wish  to  put  himself  under  Soult,  and  mix 
the  veteran  forces  of  Catalonia  with  Soult’s  unsteady  conscript 
regiments ; or  whether  he  feared  that  the  Austrians,  now  in 
possession  of  Lyons,  and  of  several  posts  beyond  it,  would  come 
down  to  prevent  his  junction  with  Soult,  we  know  not ; but, 
however  it  was,  he  did  not  appear  to  take  his  part  in  the  short 
campaign. 

On  the  27  th  of  February,  Wellington  beat  Soult  at  Orthez  ; 
and  the  conscripts  so  little  liked  this  taste  of  war,  that, 
during  the  subsequent  retreat,  they  threw  away  their  0rthez' 
arms,  and  fled  in  crowds.  Wellington  pushed  on,  over  the 
1 Annual  Register,  1814,  p.  70.  2 ibid.  p.  f-g. 


378 


FRENCH  MISCHANCES. 


[Book  II. 


Adour,  and  cut  off  Bayonne  from  all  hope  of  aid  from  Soult. 
Bayonne  The  place  was  invested  by  a division  under  Sir 

invested.  John  Hope ; and  two  other  divisions,  under  Marshal 

Beresford,  were  sent  on  to  Bordeaux.  They  were  safe  enough 
there,  and  heartily  welcomed;  for  Bordeaux  was  the  head- 
Bordeaux  quarters  of  the  Royalists.  The  gates  were  thrown 
entered.  open  to  the  British,  and  the  Mayor  and  inhabitants 
declared  for  the  restoration  of  the  Bourbons,  and  proclaimed 
Louis  XVill.  Wellington  was  made  to  bear  the  blame  of  this 
rash  act,  at  the  very  time  that  the  royalists  were  complaining 
that  his  officers  damped  their  cause  ; but  neither  Wellington  nor 
his  officers  thought  it  any  part  of  their  business  to  provide  a 
sovereign  for  France,  before  the  throne  was  vacant.  They 
neither  instigated  nor  shared  in  the  movement  at  Bordeaux. 
At  least,  we  know  that  Wellington  did  not,  and  that  he  laid 
his  commands  on  his  officers,1  that  they  should  not  expose  any 
Frenchman  to  danger  by  instigating  him  to  any  kind  of  political 
action. 

At  this  time,  the  forces  of  the  two  generals  were  nearly  equal, 
Souit;s  as  to  numbers  ; for  Wellington’s  army  was  reduced  by 
movements.  24,000  and  upwards,  since  he  had  sent  off  the  divisions 
for  Bayonne  and  Bordeaux.  But  he  had  all  the  advantage,  in 
regard  to  the  spirit  of  his  men.  The  French  troops  sank  into 
so  much  depression  that  their  General  issued  a counter  procla- 
mation, which  produced  considerable  effect  in  increasing  hatred 
of  the  British,  and  ardor  for  the  Emperor’s  cause.  While  the 
impulse  was  fresh,  Soult  endeavored  to  capture  the  Bourbon 
nobles  assembled  at  Pau  ; but  he  was  intercepted.  This  was 
on  the  13th  of  March.  He  then  hoped  to  obtain  some  advan- 
tage by  attacking  a part  of  the  British  force,  while  the  Adour 
separated  it  from  the  rest.  But  Wellington  was  on  the  watch, 
and  brought  up  such  a force  — having  sent  for  reinforcements 
from  Spain  — that  the  enemy  withdrew.  Soult  now  sent  for- 
ward his  unsteady  conscript  regiments  at  once  to  Toulouse,  and 
followed  as  fast  as  he  could  with  safety  — the  British  being  at 
his  heels  all  the  way.  His  aim  was  to  take  up  a strong  position 
on  the  favorable  ground  near  Toulouse.  Several  fights  occurred 
by  the  way,  the  most  serious  of  which  was  that  of 
Tarbes,  on  the  20th  of  March,  in  which  the  French 
were  put  to  flight.  Soult  increased  his  speed,  and,  by  prodigious 
efforts,  reached  Toulouse  in  four  days.  On  the  25th,  his  army 
was  in  position  before  the  city.  There  they  had  rest.  Wel- 
lington was  now  on  the  watch  for  the  arrival  of  Suchet,  from 
Narbonne.  The  necessary  vigilance,  on  this  account,  and  the 
weight  of  his  artillery  and  pontoon-trains,  delayed  him  ; so  that 
1 Despatches,  xi.  p.  558.. 


Chap.  VL]  TOULOUSE.  — SOULT’S  RETREAT. 


379 


it  was  the  27th  before  he  spread  out  his  army  in  face  of  the 
enemy. 

Eager  as  he  was  to  beat  Soult  before  Sucliet  came  up,  it  was 
many  days  before  he  could  attack  the  enemy.  The  broad  and 
rapid  Garonne  ran  between  the  armies  ; and  the  French  had  the 
command  of  all  the  best  passages  of  the  river.  It  was  on  the 
9th  of  April  that  the  last  of  Wellington’s  troops  stood  on  the 
right  bank.  Napoleon  had  abdicated  on  the  4th ; and  it  is 
lamentable  that  this  was  not  known  to  the  generals  in  time  to 
save  the  lives  that  were  sacrificed  on  the  10th  — the  Toulouse 
day  of  the  great  final  conflict  — the  battle  of  Toulouse. 

Soult  and  his  best  troops  had  never  fought  better  than  here  ; 
and  till  past  the  middle  of  the  day,  their  success  appeared  almost 
certain.  After  that,  they  relinquished  some  of  their  posts  to  the 
British ; but  none  supposed  the  battle  concluded 1 — -only  suspended 
for  the  night.  The  French  had  so  repaired  their  stores  and  their 
strength  during  the  night  as  to  be  ready  for  another  struggle  on 
the  11th;  but  Wellington  was  not  prepared.  It  was  evening 
before  the  ammunition  came  up,  and  the  arrangements  were  duly 
made.  Soult  had  written  to  Suchet  about  the  necessity  of  a 
retreat,  sooner  or  later,  however  this  battle  might  turn  out,  for 
he  had  been  aware,  for  four  days,  of  the  entry  of  the  Allies  into 
Paris;  and  he  gave  directions  for  effecting  a junction  some  way 
to  the  east,  for  the  purpose  of  drawing  the  British  away  from 
Bordeaux.  While  completing  his  preparations  on  the  11th, 
Wellington  sent  out  his  cavalry  to  interrupt  the  communication 
with  Suchet,  and  command  the  road  by  which  Soult  meant  to 
retreat.  It  appeared  to  Soult  that  he  must  move  now,  if  he 
would  avoid  being  shut  up  in  Toulouse  ; and  he  drew  souit’s  re- 
off  his  troops  in  excellent  order,  marched  22  miles  treat- 
without  stopping,  cutting  down  the  bridges  as  he  went,  and,  on 
the  12th,  established  his  army  at  Villefranche.  This  retreat  was 
a surrender  of  the  claim  of  victory  at  Toulouse,  about  which 
there  might  otherwise  have  been  some  reasonable  dispute.  On 
both  sides,  the  loss  was  very  severe,  the  valor  great,  and  the 
fluctuations  remarkable.  At  night,  Soult  had  a free  choice 
where  to  place  himself,  and  means  of  renewing  the  conflict ; 
and  again,  the  English  were  left  in  possession  of  new  ground, 
and  of  all  the  means  of  harassing  the  enemy  as  before.  When 
Soult  left  Toulouse  and  his  wounded  soldiers  to  their  mercy,  and 
made  a retreat  by  a forced  march,  he  might  be  considered  as 
yielding  up  the  victory. 

Wellington  entered  Toulouse  in  triumph;  and  the  adherents 
of  the  Bourbons  hung  out  the  white  flag.  In  the  after-  News  of 

-ig  , -i  Napoleon’s 

noon  came  two  messengers  — one  Englishman  and  abdication. 

1 Napier’s  History,  vi.  pp.  648-651. 


380 


ABDICATION  OF  NAPOLEON. 


[Book  II. 


one  Frenchman,  with  the  tidings  of  the  abdication  of  Na- 
poleon. They  had  been  detained  near  Blois,  by  some  offi- 
cials of  the  court  of  the  Empress ; and  that  delay  had  cost  the 
lives  of  8000  men.  Even  on  the  13th,  Soult  would  not  trust 
the  news  so  far  as  to  give  up  his  preparations  for  another  strug- 
gle. Faithful  to  his  Emperor  to  the  last  moment,  he  would  not 
yield  till  desired  to  do  so  by  due  official  notification.  Suchet 
put  on  the  white  cockade  almost  before  he  was  asked.  Elsewhere, 
the  news  did  not  spread  fast  enough ; and  blood  was  shed  at 
Barcelona,  Bayonne,  and  other  places,  before  it  was  known  that 
the  Peninsular  War  was  at  an  end. 

The  Portuguese  and  Spanish  troops  returned  home.  The  Brit- 
Return  of  ish  infantry  took  ship  at  Bordeaux,  some  for  home, 

the  army.  and  some  for  America,  where  our  war  with  the  Uni- 

ted States  was  now  going  on.  The  cavalry  marched  through 
France,  and  embarked  from  Boulogne.  Wellington  appeared 
OfWei-  in  Paris  among  the  allied  Potentates,  being  appointed 
lington.  ambassador  from  England.  It  was  a stage  on  his  way 
home  at  the  close  of  the  struggle  on  which  he  had  entered, 
amidst  the  despair  of  many  of  his  countrymen,  when  he  landed 
at  Lisbon  on  the  2 2d  of  April,  1809. 


Chap.  VII.] 


THE  WAR  WITH  AMERICA. 


381 


CHAPTER  VII. 

It  was,  as  has  been  observed,  no  easy  task  to  govern  the  coun- 
try, on  the  death  of  Mr.  Perceval,  in  May,  1812;  and  it  was  also 
found  no  easy  matter  to  induce  any  set  of  men  to  un-  Relationg 
dertake  it,  except  those  who  were  not  judged  by  the  with  the 
country  to  be  competent.  At  this  time,  the  Luddites 
were  a sufficiently  formidable  enemy  at  home  ; and 
the  manufacturers  were  demanding,  more  and  more  vehemently, 
the  repeal  of  the  Orders  in  Council  — strong  as  was  the  ap- 
prehension that  the  repeal  would  come  too  late  to  prevent  a war 
with  America.  Napoleon  had  hardly  yet  begun  to  fail  in  any  of 
his  schemes  on  the  side  of  Germany,  nor  Wellington  to  succeed 
in  the  Peninsula.  Under  such  circumstances,  there  was  delay 
and  difficulty  in  settling  the  Administration,  while  our  quarrel 
with  America  required  instant  attention,  and  all  the  wisdom  of 
the  wisest  Cabinet,  to  avert  the  danger  of  war.  The  attention 
was  not  given  ; there  was  no  wise  Cabinet  to  manage  the  affair  ; 
and  so  we  went  to  war  with  America  — plunged  into  a contest 
as  purposeless,  as  foolish,  as  unnecessary,  as  it  was  ill-managed, 
useless,  and,  merely  as  war,  discreditable  to  us.  During  its  prog- 
ress, we  find  recorded  incessant  arguings  as  to  what  the  war 
was  about : whether  about  the  Orders  in  Council  or  the  Right 
of  Search  ; and  again,  what  about  either  : and  the  war  ended 
without  the  settlement  of  any  question  that  had  been  proposed. 
It  was  no  great  wonder  if  our  arms  won  no  new  glory  in  that 
war  ; for  what  war-cry  could  be  devised  in  such  a case  ? In 
Europe,  there  was  always  the  true  and  strong  plea  to  be  urged 
upon  every  man  that  the  liberties  of  Europe  were  in  danger 
from  the  aggressions  of  a military  despot.  In  America,  there 
was  really  nothing  to  be  said  to  the  soldier  of  any  rank,  to  warm 
his  heart  and  rouse  his  spirit.  The  warfare,  naturally,  never 
rose  higher  than  the  mere  doing  as  much  mischief  as  possible  on 
both  sides. 

During  the  former  American  war,  the  manufacture  of  woollens 
had  been  set  up,  on  the  small  scale  then  suitable  to  Ti  Nq 
the  population,  in  the  United  States.  After  the  peace,  era  states 
there  had  been  very  large  importations  from  England,  to 

and  the  domestic  manufacture  had  not  expanded.  It 


382  NORTHERN  STATES  OPPOSED  TO  WAR.  [Book  II. 


was,  in  fact,  only  that  making  of  home-spun  fabrics  in  rural  dis- 
tricts which  was  not,  at  that  time,  wholly  obsolete  in  our  own 
country.  After  the  operation  of  our  Orders  in  Council  began  to 
be  felt,  the  inhabitants  of  the  New  England  States  devised  means 
for  rendering  their  country  independent  of  us  in  regard  to  the 
clothing  of  their  navy,  and  other  classes  to  whom  it  was  not 
convenient  to  spin  at  home.  Several  companies  were  formed,  in 
Massachusetts  particularly,  for  the  manufacture  of  woollen  cloths 
to  which  the  manufacture  of  cotton  was  afterwards  added 
Since  the  embargo  of  1807,  (which  was  repealed,  without  per- 
ceptible advantage,  in  1809,)  and  the  interruption  of  commercial 
relations  with  Europe,  the  manufacture  had  largely  increased, 
especially  in  Massachusetts  ; 1 and  at  the  time  of  the  peace  in 
1815,  we  find  that  twenty-four  companies  were  incorporated  in 
that  state  alone.  The  dread  of  war  entertained  by  the  parties 
concerned  in  this  branch  of  industry  was  extreme.  They  had  no 
belief  that  any  war  that  could  be  carried  on  between  England 
and  themselves  could  throw  open  the  commerce  of  Europe,  and 
extinguish  their  manufacture.  It  was  not  that  that  they  dreaded  ; 
but  the  interruption  of  business  at  home.  They  did  not  see  why 
the  European  powers  should  not  be  left  to  manage  their  own 
quarrels,  while  the  United  States  quietly  cultivated  their  own 
resources,  and  raised  up  an  inter-state  trade ; the  southern  States 
exchanging  their  agricultural  products  for  the  manufactures  of 
the  north.  There  was  a standing  charge  against  Jefferson  of 
favoring  the  French,  in  hatred  of  England;  and  the  charge  was 
extended  to  Madison,  now  President.  He  was  described  in  the 
northern  newspapers,  and  even  in  northern  legislatures,  as  the 
tool  of  Napoleon  in  his  designs  against  England.  The  war  was 
declared  useless,  uncalled  for,  and  detrimental  to  everybody’s  in- 
terests ; and  it  was  clear  from  the  beginning  that  there  would 
be  no  concert  between  the  general  Government  and  the  govern- 
ments of  the  New  England  States  about  the  defence  of  the  coast, 
the  calling  out  of  the  militia,  and  the  appropriation  of  United 
States’  troops.  There  would  be  the  burden  of  war-taxes,  with- 
out any  adequate  defence  to  the  commercial  States.  The  men 
would  be  called  away  from  the  mill  and  the  loom ; and  the  fac- 
tory would  be  stopped  as  certainly  as  the  tillage  on  the  farms  ; 
and,  at  the  same  time,  the  fishermen  on  the  granite  shore  would 
not  be  allowed  to  put  out  to  sea,  nor  the  small  coasters  to  carry 
produce  from  port  to  port.  And  so  it  turned  out.  The  towns- 
men had  to  pay  heavily  while  their  earnings  were  stopped.  The 
villagers  dared  hardly  go  to  their  fields  in  the  day,  or  lose  them- 
selves in  sleep  at  night,  for  fear  of  the  prowling  and  howling 
Indians,  with  their  tomahawks  and  scalping  knives  — the  detest 
1 Bradford’s  History  of  Massachusetts,  p.  415. 


Chap.  VII.]  CABINET-MAKING  IN  ENGLAND. 


383 


able  allies  of  the  British.  During  the  next  autumn,  when  the 
purple  seas  were  lapsing  among  the  amethyst  islands  in  the  bays 
of  Massachusetts,  under  the  most  golden  atmosphere  in  the 
world,  the  fishermen  lay  idle  among  the  barberry-bushes,  seeing 
their  boats  laid  up  on  the  rocks,  and  the  silvery  shoals  of  fish 
floating  by1 — because  of  the  interdict  to  leave  the  shore  on  any 
pretence  whatever,  lest  the  British  cruisers  should  profit  by  the 
capture  of  their  cargoes.  There  was  little  promise  of  successful 
warfare  where  all  the  citizens  deprecated  the  war.  The  war 
was.  in  fact,  supported  by  the  animus  of  the  Southern  „ , 

~ . . . . The  South- 

States,  where  the  war  spirit  is  always  kept  up  by  the  em  states 
institution  of  slavery,  and  there  was  no  commerce  to  ^avor  of 
be  put  to  hazard,  no  Canada  at  hand  to  pour  down 
British  soldiery  upon  undefended  districts,  and  ho  Indian  foes 
to  exercise  at  once  the  cunning  of  men  and  the  ferocity  of  wild 
beasts.  The  successive  Presidents  were  Virginians,  and  the 
Southern  States  had  the  preponderance  in  Congress  ; and  war 
was  popular  there.  In  April,  a Secret  Committee  organized  prep- 
arations for  war  ; and  on  the  29th  of  May,  while  England  was 
aghast  at  the  murder  of  her  Prime  Minister,2  a vote  was  taken 
in  Congress  on  the  expediency  of  a war  with  England,  which 
showed  that  conflict  was  inevitable,  unless  England  should  im- 
mediately repeal  the  Orders  in  Council. 

In  England,  however,  there  was  at  that  time,  in  fact,  no  govern- 
ment. Five  several  attempts  to  form  a government, 
in  consequence  of  the  death  of  Mr.  Perceval,  failed,  abou^a7 
after  the  loss  of  precious  days  in  negotiation.3  Lord  government 
Wellesley  and  Mr.  Canning  were  more  than  ever  the 
only  two  strong  men.  They  were  asked  to  join  the  Perceval  Cab- 
inet. As  there  was  to  be  no  change  on  the  Catholic  question, 
and  as  Lord  Castlereagh  was  to  remain  Foreign  Secretary,  this 
was,  of  course,  impossible.  Then,  Lord  Wellesley  and  Mr.  Can- 
ning were  requested  to  form  a government.  They  invited  Lords 
Grenville  and  Grey,  announcing  that  the  two  great  objects  were; 
to  be  Catholic  Emancipation  and  the  vigorous  prosecution  of  the 
Peninsular  War.  But  Lords  Grenville  and  Grey  were  pledged 
against  the  prosecution  of  the  Peninsular  war.  The  Regent  seized 
on  this  as  a failure,  and  desired  an  attempt  in  another  direction. 
Two  more  mixed  measures  were  found  to  be  impracticable; 
when  a fifth  negotiation  seemed  likely  to  succeed.  Lords  Gren- 
ville and  Grey  were  desired  to  undertake  the  business  on  their 
own  terms  ; and  everybody  supposed  there  was  to  be  a Gren- 
ville Ministry,  when  a difference  arose  between  the  two  Lords 
and  Lord  Moira  about  the  appointment  to  Household  offices. 

1 Bradford’s  Histoiy  of  Massachusetts,  p.  394. 

2 Annual  Register,  1812,  p.  196.  $ Memoirs  of  Ward,  i.  pp.  483-437. 


384 


DECLARATION  OF  WAR. 


[Book  II. 


The  arrangements  were  once  more  broken  off.  By  this  time,  it 
was  the  middle  of  June.  On  the  17th,  Sheridan  was  to  explain 
in  the  House  of  Commons  the  affair  of  the  Household  appoint- 
ments ; but  he  was  taken  ill  and  stopped.  On  the  19th,  he  told 
his  story  ; but,  on  the  18th,  the  American  Government  had 
made  its  Declaration  of  War.  In  the  House  and  in  the  streets, 
it  was  whispered,  meanwhile,  that  the  Ministry  were  quite  unde- 
cided about  the  Orders  in  Council,  and  that  their  repeal  might 
take  place  any  day.  The  Duke  of  Norfolk  had  been  told  so  by 
the  Regent.  On  the  16th,  Mr.  Brougham  brought  forward  his 
Repeal  of  motion  for  the  entire  repeal  of  the  Orders ; and  to 
the  Orders  the  amazement  of  everybody,  the  Ministers  gave  them 
m Council.  shabbily  and  awkwardly,  but  without  any  attempt 

at  real  opposition.  The  pretence  was  a French  decree  which 
everybody  knew  to  be  a forgery.  At  a meeting  at  Lord  Castle- 
reagh’s,  when  it  was  urged  that  the  decree  was  a forgery,  Lord 
Castlereagh’s  answer  was,1  “ Aye,  but  one  does  not  like  to  own 
that  we  are  forced  to  give  way  to  our  manufacturers.”  Thus  was 
the  policy  of  England  managed  in  1812. 

Under  the  same  management  it  continued  for  ten  years  from 
this  time,  without  any  change  in  the  principal  offices  of  the  gov- 
ernment. Lord  Liverpool  now  became  Prime  Minister ; and  he 
filled  that  post  for  fifteen  years.  The  country  was  now  to  wit- 
ness a long  pause  in  that  troublesome  part  of  political  business 
— the  formation  of  a Cabinet.  It  was  in  June,  1812,  that  Lord 
Liverpool  became  Premier;  and  it  was  in  February,  1827,  that 
he  was  struck  down  by  fatal  illness.  Here,  then,  we  take  leave 
of  the  troublesome  subject  of  Cabinet-making,  for  a long  course 
of  years. 

As  for  the  Orders  in  Council,  there  was  still  hope  among  our 
suffering  manufacturers  that  when  the  news  of  the  repeal  reached 
America,  the  project  of  war  might  be  relinquished ; but  by  that 
time,  men’s  minds  were  made  up,  appropriations  had  been  voted, 
and  the  invasion  of  Canada  determined  on. 

It  was  on  the  1st  of  June  that  the  President  had  sent  down 
Declaration  his  Message  to  Congress,  detailing  at  length  the  in- 
of  war.  juries  which  Great  Britain  had  inflicted  on  the  inter- 
ests of  the  United  States.  The  two  Houses  deliberated  with 
closed  doors,  and,  on  the  18th,  passed  an  Act  which  declared  the 
actual  existence  of  war  between  the  two  countries.  A large 
meeting  was  immediately  held  in  New  York,  at  which  it  was 
agreed,  by  the  principal  citizens,2  “ that  war,  one  of  the  great- 
est calamities  which  afflict  mankind,  when  waged  without  just 
Demonstra-  cause,  is  an  affront  to  the  Divine  Being;”  that  this 
America.  war,  decreed  by  a bare  majority  (a  majority  of  only 

1 Life  of  Wilberforce,  iv.  p.  35.  2 Bradford’s  History,  p.  391  (note). 


Chap.  VII.]  TEMPER  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES. 


385 


thirty)  in  Congress,  was  unwise ; that  the  country  was  unpre- 
pared, its  treasury  being  empty,  its  revenue  impaired  by  com- 
mercial restrictions,  and  its  commercial  property  being  mainly 
in  the  hands  of  its  enemies  ; that  the  citizens  anticipated  being 
subjected  to  the  will  and  power  of  Napoleon,  through  the  mis- 
conduct of  their  rulers  ; and  that,  therefore,  they  had  no  confi- 
dence in  the  existing  government  of  the  United  States.  A meet- 
ing of  the  citizens  of  Boston  passed  similar  resolutions  on  the 
day  of  the  Declaration  of  War  ; and  all  the  vessels  in  the  har- 
bor displayed  their  flags  half-mast  high.  The  Governor  of 
the  State,  Governor  Strong,  chosen  for  his  opinions  at  this  crisis, 
refused  to  obey  the  requisition  of  the  General  Government  to  call 
out  the  militia  of  Massachusetts ; alleging  that  the  law  author- 
ized his  doing  so  only  in  case  of  invasion,  actual  or  immediately 
apprehended ; and  that  he  saw  no  danger  of  invasion  at  present. 
Whilst  such  was  the  temper  of  the  States  nearest  to  Canada, 
the  ports  of  the  Slave  States  were  busily  fitting  out  privateers, 
in  hope  of  finding  a rich  booty  among  the  West  India  Islands. 
At  Baltimore,  a newspaper  editor,  who  had  advocated  peace, 
was  threatened  with  violence,  his  house  attacked,  and  himself 
and  his  friends,  among  whom  were  the  two  Revolutionary  Gen- 
erals, and  friends  of  Washington,  Generals  Lee  and  Lingan, 
conveyed  to  prison  for  safety  from  the  mob  who  were  bent  on 
privateering.  The  next  day  the  jail  was  forced  ; General  Lee 
had  his  skull  fractured,  and  General  Lingan  was  killed  on  the 
spot.  Such  were  the  demonstrations  amidst  which  the  Ameri- 
cans went  into  the  war  of  1812.  It  is  certain  that  Mr.  Madison 
had  no  personal  desire  for  the  war,  but  incurred  it  because  the 
large  majority  of  the  people  thought  it  necessary.  During  the 
last  year  of  his  life  (1835),  he  told  an  English  visitor,  that  it  is 
the  people  who  pay  for  war  who  ought  to  decide  upon  it,  and  not 
the  rulers,  who  do  not  personally  suffer  by  it ; and  he  spoke  of 
the  personal  interest  which  he  conceived  the  Regent  to  have 
in  the  war  of  1812,  as  helping  to  explain  its  occurrence;  at 
least,  its  not  being  more  carefully  prevented.  At  that  time,  the 
Droits  of  the  Admiralty  carried  to  the  Crown  a large  share  of 
the  captured  property  of  the  enemy ; and  Mr.  Madison  declared 
that  the  Crown  received  no  less  than  1,000,000/.  a year  for  the 
two  years  and  a half  that  the  last  American  war  continued.  Such 
a remark  can  never  again  be  made  by  an  antagonist,  as,  in  the 
reign  of  William  IV.,  it  was  settled  that  all  sums  accruing  from 
the  Droits  of  the  Admiralty  should  be  paid  into  the  Exchequer, 
for  public  use.1 

The  first  measures  of  the  Government  did  not  propitiate  the 
people  of  the  Commercial  States.  The  levy  of  forces  was  de- 

1 Political  Dictionary,  i.  p.  782. 

25 


VOL.  I. 


386 


INDIANS  EMPLOYED  BY  THE  BRITISH.  [Book  II. 


clared  to  be  for  the  protection  of  the  country  at  large.  Yet  the 
New  England  States  could  obtain  no  defence  for  their  seaboard, 
because  the  regular  troops  were  wanted  for  the  invasion  of  Can- 
ada, with  the  object  of  annexing  it  to  the  United  States.  The  first 
First  blow  hostile  act,  however,  took  place  at  sea.  Commodore 
struck.  Rodgers  left  New  York  presently  after  the  Declaration 
of  War,  and  before  it  could  be  known  to  the  British  who  were 
on  the  seas.  He  carried  with  him  a squadron  of  ships  of  war, 
and  went  in  pursuit  of  a convoy  which  was  known  to  have  sailed 
from  the  West  Indies.  On  the  23d  of  June,  he  fell  in  with  the 
Belvidere  frigate,  under  Captain  Byron,  and  gave  chase,  with- 
out other  result  than  loss  of  life  on  both  sides,  — the  first  blood 
shed  in  the  war.  Captain  Byron  supposed  that  war  was  declared, 
and  captured  three  American  merchant- vessels ; but  they  were 
released  by  the  Commander  on  the  Halifax  station.1 

The  invasion  of  Canada  took  place  in  July,  when  General  Hull 
Employment  with  his  little  army  crossed  the  river  Detroit,  entered 
byTtheanS  Canada,  and  addressed  the  inhabitants,  promising  high 
British.  success  to  the  American  arms,  and  threatening  a war 
of  extermination,  if  the  British  should  employ  savages  in  the 
conflict.  This  deadly  wrong  was,  however,  already  done.  Indians 
were  already  attacking,  in  company  with  English  and  Canadians, 
the  fort  in  the  island  of  Mackinaw  (or  Michilimackinack)  — the 
little  island  of  nine  miles  round,  which  commands  the  strait 
between  the  Lakes  Michigan  and  Huron.  There,  on  the  white 
pebbly  beach,  were  the  wigwams  set  up  ; among  the  bark-roofed 
old  French  cottages,  the  red  men  were  prowling  ; they  crept 
among  the  green  knolls,  and  their  devilish  whoop  echoed  back 
from  the  shrubby  precipices,  and  spread  far  over  the  blue  waters 
of  the  great  inland  seas.  There  is  hardly  such  a paradise  on 
earth  as  that  little  island  ; but  the  savages,  with  their  thirst  for 
human  torture,  were  brought  up  into  it  by  Englishmen,  and 
hounded  on  upon  men  who  are  our  kindred,  — men  of  our  own 
race,  derived  from  our  own  country,  and  speaking  our  own  lan- 
guage. This  is  the  unpardonable  act  from  which  our  national 
reputation  in  America  can  with  difficulty,  if  ever,  recover.  This 
is  the  incident  of  the  war  which  gave  a tone  of  disgust  to  the 
serene  conversation  of  the  aged  Madison,  when  alluding  to  the 
war  of  his  Presidency.  This  it  was  which,  even  now,  makes 
terrible  to  an  English  traveller  the  review  of  the  scenes  of  that 
war,  when  accompanied  by  an  American  guide.  One  genuine 
story,  learned  on  such  a spot,  may  convey  a truer  idea  of  the 
war  than  many  details  of  marchings  and  skirmishes ; and  such  a 
narrative  is  not,  therefore,  out  of  place  in  History. 

There  is  now  a scene  of  ruin  on  the  margin  of  Lake  Erie,  a 
1 Annual  Register,  1312,  p.  197. 


CilAP.  VII.]  FORT  ERIE  AND  ITS  RUINS. 


387 


few  miles  from  Buffalo,  where,  in  1812,  there  stood  a strong  fort, 
with  walls  so  thick  that  they  might  seem  to  defy  any  foe.  The 
fort  was  held  by  the  Americans  to  the  last  extremity.  When 
the  British  believed  they  should  be  able  to  take  it,  there  was  a 
tremendous  explosion.  Once  before  there  had  been  an  explosion, 
which  had  cost  the  lives  of  several  hundreds  of  our  soldiers  ; but 
only  one  life  was  lost  on  this  occasion  ; and  that  was  the  life  of 
a hero.  The  Americans  found  themselves  obliged  to  abandon 
the  fort ; and,  for  the  sake  of  the  town  of  Buffalo,  and  the  whole 
of  the  neighboring  frontier,  one  man  remained  to  blow  up  the 
magazine.  The  Buffalo  people  knew  when  the  deed  was  done  ; 
for  their  windows  were  destroyed  by  the  explosion.  Huge  frag- 
ments of  the  massy  walls  now  lie  overgrown  with  tall  grass,  and 
bristling  with  shrubbery.  The  grim  forest  stretches  its  dark 
palisade  behind,  with  the  ruins  of  a deserted  house  within  its 
shadow  ; and  before,  spreads  the  waste  of  waters,  with  gulls  dip- 
ping and  floating.  In  the  very  midst  of  the  fort  lies  a pool,  over- 
hung by  a single  birch ; and  on  the  bulrush  sways  the  solitary 
snipe,  regardless  of  the  meditative  stranger.  This  was,  in  1812, 
the  strong  and  busy  Fort  Erie  — the  terror  of  Indians,  and  the 
coveted  of  the  English  ; but  the  English  never  obtained  it.  Not 
the  more  for  this  were  the  Buffalo  people  safe.  Among  the 
families,  there  was  one  whose  lot  is  a fair  sample  of  the  fortunes 
of  borderers  in  those  days  — hard  as  it  seems  to  believe  that 
such  things  could  have  happened  so  lately.  First,  the  head  of 
the  family  and  his  eldest  son  were  drowned  in  crossing  the 
neighboring  ferry,  on  military  service.  When  the  storming  of 
Fort  Erie  was  approaching,  the  widow  sent  away  her  young 
children  into  the  country,  in  a wagon,  under  the  care  of  her 
son-in-law  and  his  wife.  The  difficulty  of  getting  away  was 
extreme  ; and  the  party  had  not  gone  far  when  they  fell  in  with 
some  Indians,  who  turned  them  back.  Some  incident  having 
drawn  off  the  attention  of  the  savages,  the  brother-in-law  wheeled 
his  wagon  into  the  woods,  and  got  off.  But  he  had  no  means  of 
sending  warning  to  the  widow  and  her  two  daughters  in  Buffalo, 
whom  he  was  to  have  conveyed  away  the  next  morning. 

Th.  ladies  were  on  the  watch,  however.  For  three  weeks, 
they  had  lain  down  in  their  clothes  — one  watching  while  the 
others  slept.  The  ordinary  dread  of  an  invading  enemy  is  wholly 
unlike,  in  kind  and  degree,  the  loathing  with  which  the  white 
Americans  regard  an  Indian  foe,  — a foe  which  will  seize  a set- 
tler’s family  during  his  absence,  and  leave  their  limbs,  tongues, 
and  ears  stuck  upon  the  palings  of  his  dwelling,  to  inform  him, 
on  his  return,  what  has  become  of  them.  The  insidious  and 
cruel  enemy  were  known  to  be  near  ; and  in  the  town  were  many 
who  were  burning  with  the  injuries  inflicted  by  their  barbarity. 


388 


INDIAN  BARBARITIES. 


[Book  II. 


Worn  by  dread  and  expectation,  the  widow  and  her  daughters 
could  snatch  but  a troubled  sleep  at  best.  From  this  they  were 
awakened  twice  this  night : once  early,  when  it  was  found  that 
the  drum  had  given  a false  alarm.  At  four  in  the  morning,  the 
hoarse  drum  was  again  heard  ; and,  deadly  sick  at  heart,  the 
ladies  sprang  from  their  beds.  The  younger  sister  (of  sixteen) 
stole  to  a back  window  ; and  the  elder  looked  into  the  street. 
She  saw,  by  the  torch-light,  the  soldiers  part  and  fly  ; but  her 
sister  saw,  in  the  uncertain  glimmer  of  the  dawn,  something 
worse.  An  interminable  number  of  painted  savages  were  leap- 
ing the  garden-fence  — leaping  along  the  walks  like  kangaroos, 
flourishing  their  tomahawks  for  a blow  upon  the  house-door. 
It  was  too  late  to  fly.  Before  the  front  door  could  be  opened, 
the  back  windows  came  crashing  in,  and  the  yelling  savages 
seized  the  ladies.  The  captives  put  on  the  most  submissive  air 
possible.  A woman  on  the  opposite  door-step  lay  tomahawked, 
from  having  defied  the  Indians.  Some  squaws  drove  these  ladies 
through  the  streets,  between  burning  houses,  and  among  bleeding 
corpses,  to  the  British  encampment.  The  British  commander 
could  do  nothing  with  helpless  women  in  his  camp  ; and  he  sent 
the  ladies  home,  under  the  care  of  an  ensign  and  a private,  who 
had  extreme  difficulty  in  saving  the  women  and  their  house. 
For  two  days,  it  was  a constant  struggle  at  the  door ; and  at  the 
end  of  that  time,  the  house  was  almost  the  only  one  left  standing. 
The  flames  were,  in  some  places,  actually  slaked  with  blood.  A 
few  of  the  inhabitants  barricaded  themselves  in  the  jail ; others 
stole  out  to  the  woods,  with  their  money,  and  whatever  they 
could  carry  about  them.  When  the  Indians  found  nothing  more 
to  burn  and  destroy,  they  went  elsewhere  ; and  the  inhabitants 
began  to  creep  back  to  the  town,  shivering  and  half  famished. 
The  windows  of  the  now  lone  house  wTere  carefully  darkened, 
and  a large  fire  kept  up  all  the  day  and  night  — the  ladies  cook- 
ing for  hungry  applicants,  as  fast  as  food  could  be  procured. 
When  too  weary  to  stand,  they  slept,  one  at  a time,  before  the 
fire.  The  younger  daughter  gained  nerve  as  time  went  on,  and, 
making  herself  look  like  an  Indian,  with  a blanket  about  her 
shoulders,  went  out  into  the  wintry  night,  to  forage  for  food.  She 
traced  the  hogs  in  the  snow,  and  caught  many  fowls  in  the  dark. 
But  the  savages  came  again.  They  could  not  prevail  on  them- 
selves to  leave  the  house  standing ; and  they  burst  in  the  win- 
dows, while  six  men  from  the  woods  were  eating  within.  As  the 
six  men  fled,  the  poor  girl,  who  was  cooking  for  them,  naturally 
fled  with  them  ; but,  recollecting  herself,  she  looked  back.  A 
savage  was  coming  on,  with  his  kangaroo  leap,  and  his  raised 
tomahawk.  In  another  moment,  her  skull  would  have  been  cleft. 
She  burst  into  a laugh  «in  his  face,  and  held  out  both  her  hands. 


Chap.  VII.'j 


AMERICAN  NAVAL  SUCCESS. 


389 


The  savage  was  surprised  and  perplexed,  and  his  weapon  swerved. 
He  motioned  her  homewards  ; but  she  could  not  obtain  entrance. 
Persuaded  that  her  mother  and  sister  lay  murdered  within,  she 
became  reckless,  and  thrust  her  way  through  the  Indians  to  some 
British  dragoons,  who  were  sitting  on  the  ground  a long  way  off. 
Amazed  at  her  escape,  they  guarded  her  home,  and  protected 
her  sister  and  mother,  till  the  savages  had  finally  departed. 
Then,  the  family  had  nothing  left  but  the  bare  house  over  their 
heads — neither  furniture,  food,  nor  clothes.  But  they  earned 
their  living  by  working  for  the  towns-people,  as  they  dropped 
back  into  the  place ; and  the  young  creature,  whose  brain  had 
not  turned  at  the  sight  of  the  suspended  tomahawk,  became  the 
wife  of  a judge. 

A true  picture,  like  this,  of  the  American  war  of  1812-14, 
will  enable  the  next  generation  to  understand  how  Americans 
must  have  felt  — from  President  Madison  down  to  the  humblest 
settler  in  the  woods  — towards  an  antagonist  who  could  bring 
into  the  conflict  savages  of  too  low  an  order  to  be  under  military 
command. 

By  the  aid  of  such  allies,  the  British  took  Mackinaw ; and 
General  Hull,  failing  in  his  attempts  upon  Canada,  British  suc_ 
surrendered  the  important  fort  of  Detroit,  with  its  cesses  on 
guns,  and  2500  men.  On  the  sea,  the  Americans  had  land‘ 
the  advantage  — greatly  to  the  consternation  of  Eng-  Losses  at  gea 
land,  whose  naval  supremacy  had,  for  some  years,  been 
undisputed.  The  American  frigates  of  a rating  corresponding  to 
the  British  were,  in  size,  weight  of  metal,  and  manning,  almost 
equal  to  our  ships  of  the  line.  It  was  some  time  before  our 
proud  and  fearless  naval  commanders  became  sufficiently  aware 
of  this  ; and,  till  they  had  learned  caution,  the  Americans  had 
all  their  own  way  at  sea.  In  August,  they  took  the  English  frig- 
ate Guerrier  ; 1 and,  during  the  rest  of  the  year,  inflicted  vari- 
ous other  mortifications  on  our  naval  pride,  besides  enriching 
themselves  by  a successful  course  of  privateering.  The  English 
people  began  to  demand  more  energetic  measures  against  a naval 
foe  whom  they  could  no  longer  despise  ; and,  on  the  26th  of 
December,  the  Regent  issued  a public  notice,2  that  the  ports  and 
harbors  of  the  Chesapeake  and  Delaware  were  in  a state  of 
blockade. 

This  blockade  enabled  the  British  to  do  some  mischief  on  the 
rivers,  and  by  excursions  up  the  country,  here  and  there ; but, 
during  1813,  the  Americans  had  still  the  advantage  at  sea ; and 
our  force  on  the  great  lakes  could  not  compete  with  theirs.  As 
for  the  wisdom  at  head-quarters,  under  which  the  war  was  to  be 
conducted,  it  was  not  likely  to  show  itself  more  to  our  com- 
1 Annual  Register,  1812,  p.  200.  2 Ibid.  p.  204. 


390 


PROPOSALS  OF  PEACE. 


[Book  II. 


manders  in  America  than  to  Wellington  in  Spain ; and  one  anec- 
dote suffices  to  show  what  it  was.  When  the  British  were  to 
encounter  the  Americans  on  the  great  lakes,  water-casks  were 
sent  out,  at  large  cost  of  money  and  trouble,  the  officials  at  home 
having  forgotten  (if  indeed  they  knew)  that  the  lake-water  was 
fresh.  This  was  of  a piece  with  sending  out  to  Wellington 
shoes  not  only  unfit  for  service  among  the  Pyrenees,  but  too 
small  for  any  soldiers  to  wear. 

On  the  30th  of  March,  just  after  Mr.  Madison  had  resumed 
Extensive  office  on  his  reelection  as  President,  the  Regent 
blockade.  issued  a second  notice,1  declaring  a blockade  of  the 
ports  and  harbors  of  New  York,  Charleston,  Port  Royal,  Sa- 
vannah, and  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi.  No  decisive  battles 
were  fought  during  the  'year.  The  Americans  failed  in  new 
attempts  against  Canada ; and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  British 
lost  their  city  of  York  (now  Toronto),  the  capital  of  Upper 
Canada,  with  300  men  and  considerable  stores.  In  May,  the 
Russian  in-  Emperor  of  Russia  offered  his  mediation  between  the 
terveution.  belligerents.  The  American  government,  while  bating 
nothing  of  its  complaints  of  Great  Britain,  evidenced  a desire  for 
peace,  by  proposing  to  send  three  Commissioners  to  Europe,  to 
negotiate  a treaty,  under  the  auspices  of  Russia.2  The  British 
government  declined  the  intervention  of  Russia ; but  expressed 
Proposals  a desire  for  peace,  and  proposed  to  appoint  Commis- 
of  peace.  sioners  to  meet  those  of  the  United  Stales,  if  the  meet- 
ing was  held  either  in  London  or  at  Gottenburg.  Meantime,  the 
war  went  on.  It  was  a disheartening  fact  to  the  British  that 
a formidable  portion  of  the  foes  they  had  now  to  meet  were 
actually  arrayed  against  them  by  their  own  government.  In 
answer  to  the  complaints  of  the  American  government  of  the 
impressment  of  their  seamen  by  the  British,  Lord  Castlereagh 
declared  in  parliament  that  not  more  than  1600  or  1700 
Americans  could  be  found  in  our  navy  ; and  Mr.  Baring’s  reply 
testified  that  not  less  than  16,000  British  sailors  were  serving 
Deserters  in  the  navy  of  the  United  States.  The  long  war,  the 

and  exiles.  severity  of  the  impressment  in  England,  and  the 

unrelieved  fatigues  of  the  service,  had  so  far  destroyed  national 
attachment  in  a multitude  of  British  sailors,  that  they  were 
eager  to  take  service  in  a foreign  state  whose  identity  of  lan- 
guage with  our  own  made  such  a measure  safe.  A more  im- 
portant adverse  influence  was  the  exiled  Irish,  who  might  be 
found  everywhere  in  the  United  States.  The  British  Ambas- 
sador, just  returned  thence,  declared  in  parliament,3  that  “ there 
were  no  fewer  than  six  United  Irishmen  in  the  American  Con- 

1 Annual  Register,  1813,  p.  179.  2 Ibid.  1814,  p.  178. 

8 Hansard  xxiv.  p.  625. 


Chap.  YII.J  IRISH  IN  AMERICA  HATE  ENGLAND. 


391 


gress,  remarkable  for  their  inveterate  Hostility  to  this  country, 
for  the  war  with  which  they  had  all  voted.”  There  were  others 
from  Ireland  who  were  guiltless  of  all  political  offence,  but 
more  hostile  to  England  than  any  native-born  American.  For 
one  instance,  there  were  the  sons  of  a clergyman  who  was  qui- 
etly said  to  have  “lost  his  life  in  the  rebellion  of  1798.”  This 
clergyman,  a man  of  learning,  wit,  and  gay  spirits,  was  a neigh- 
bor of  Lord  Londonderry,  and  a favorite  guest  at  his  table.  He 
was  charged,  secretly,  with  having  written  one  or  more  patriotic 
songs  found  among  the  soldiers.  He  was  seized  at  his  parson- 
age, dragged  before  a few  officers,  who  scarcely  pretended  to 
offer  the  forms  of  a trial,  even  by  martial  law,  and  ordered  him 
immediately  to  the  gibbet.  To  his  wife’s  entreaties  for  time  to 
bring  evidence,  the  answer  was  that  the  only  favor  they  could 
grant  her  was  to  allow  her  to  attend  her  husband  to  his  death. 
She  did  so.  He  was  immediately  hanged  in  his  own  parish, 
with  his  wife  at  the  foot  of  the  gallows.  One  son  was  a growing 
youth  ; another  was  four  years  old.  He  could  not  think  what 
was  the  matter  with  his  mother  that  night.  She  sat  all  night 
beside  the  bed,  on  which  lay  something  covered  with  a sheet. 
Her  eyes  were  very  wide  open  ; and  she  sat,  all  those  hours, 
with  a deep  red  spot  on  each  cheek,  staring  at  the  wall.  The 
child  dared  not  move,  but  sat  on  his  stool  in  a corner,  watching 
his  mother.  That  boy  followed  his  brother  in  saying  that  he 
would  never  belong  to  England.  Their  mother,  surrounded  by 
hungering  children,  encouraged  them  in  this,  and  sent  back, 
without  message,  the  clothes  and  money  which  her  great  neigh- 
bors left  at  her  door.  The  eldest  son  went  immediately  to 
America,  and  was  an  active  citizen  there,  while  Lord  Castle- 
reagh  (whom  his  father  had  known  so  well)  was  conducting  the 
American  war.  This  young  man.  animated  by  his  burning  love 
of  Ireland,  of  his  mother,  and  of  the  memory  of  his  father,  used 
his  fine  faculties  well,  and  became  not  only  the  wealthiest  citizen 
of  Louisiana,  but  Judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  that  State,  and 
one  of  the  most  important  members  of  the  Senate  at  Washington. 
In  that  position,  he  had  more  power,  in  any  question  between 
Great  Britain  and  the  United  States,  than  any  man  out  of  the 
Cabinet  could  have  on  our  side  the  water.  He  invited  over  the 
rest  of  the  family  as  he  became  able  to  offer  them  a vocation  and 
a home ; and  that  family  is  only  one  specimen  of  a large  class  of 
haters  of  England  (the  England  of  the  Pitts,  Sidmoutlis,  and 
Castlereaghs),  who  were  planted  down  in  all  districts,  and  scat- 
tered through  all  the  political  councils  of  the  United  States,  dur- 
ing the  war  of  1812. 

One  of  the  most  threatening  inflictions  of  the  war  arose  out  of 
the  presence  of  this  class  in  America.  In  that  country,  it  was 


392 


EXCHANGE  OF  PRISONERS. 


[Book  IL 


considered  a matter  of  course  that  immigrants,  coming  to  settle 
for  life,  should  transfer  their  allegiance  from  their  native  tc 
their  adopted  country ; but  in  Europe,  such  a transfer  was  held 
Retaliation  to  be  impossible-  Out  of  the  determination  of  the 
about  pris-  British  government  to  treat  as  traitors  all  prisoners 

of  war  found  to  be  of  British,  Irish,  or  colonial  origin, 
arose  one  of  the  most  painful  complications  of  this  lamentable 
quarrel.  The  British  commander  in  Canada  declared,1  in  the 
General  Orders  published  on  the  27th  of  October,  1813,  that 
twenty-three  prisoners  of  war  had  been  sent  to  England  as 
British  subjects,  to  be  dealt  with  in  that  capacity.  The  Amer- 
ican general,  Dearborn,  was  immediately  instructed  to  put  into 
close  confinement  twenty-three  British  soldiers,  as  hostages  for 
the  safety  of  those  who  were  gone  to  England.  This  was  fol- 
lowed up  by  the  Prince  Regent  committing  to  close  confinement 
forty-six  American  officers  and  non-commissioned  officers,  as 
hostages  for  the  safety  of  his  twenty-three  soldiers.  He  inti- 
mated that  double  the  number  of  executions  should  take  place  on 
the  British  side  for  any  on  the  American ; and  that  the  villages, 
coasts,  towns,  cities,  and  settlements  of  every  kind  in  the  United 
States,  should  suffer  from  the  extremest  vengeance  of  his  forces, 
in  case  of  any  retaliatory  act  of  the  Americans,  when  he  was 
dealing  with  his  own  subjects.  The  year  1813  closed  upon 
these  menaces ; and  the  two  countries  remained  on  the  watch 
for  a revival  of  the  worst  warfare  of  the  darkest  ages.  Both 
governments,  however,  thought  better  of  the  matter,  and  the 
cruelty  and  scandal  were  avoided.  In  April,  1814,  a convention 
for  the  exchange  of  prisoners  was  discussed  between  two  com- 
manders;2 and  in  July  this  convention  was  reconsidered  by  a 
party  of  officers,  at  the  suggestion  of  the  American  government. 
Reiin-  The  convention  was  agreed  to ; and  the  opportunity 

quisked.  was  taken  of  including  among  the  exchangeable  pris- 
oners the  twenty-three  British  soldiers  and  forty-six  American 
officers  who  had  been  confined  as  hostages. 

The  war  did  not  become  more  popular  as  it  proceeded.  The 
citizens  of  the  United  States  suffered  in  all  directions,  while  they 
had  not  the  animating  principle  which  had  supported  them  under 
their  privations  in  the  war  of  the  last  century.  No  decisive  ad- 
vantage was  gained  on  either  side,  while  the  revenue  was  falling 
off,  and  public  spirit  oozing  away.  In  March,  1814,  the  Pres- 
ident found  it  necessary  to  propose  the  repeal  of  the  embargo  and 
non-importation  acts,  under  which  the  commerce  of  the  country 
Relaxation  had  sunk  into  ruin.  Just  when  the  merchants  were 
dai°r?-mer*  beginning  to  hope  for  a revival  of  trade  from  this  rel- 
etrictions.  axation,  they  were  thrown  back  into  discouragement 

1 Annual  Register,  1813,  p.  190.  2 Ibid.  1814,  p.  182. 


Chap.  VII.] 


CAPTURE  OF  WASHINGTON. 


393 


by  the  extension  of  the  blockade  by  the  British.  Hitherto,  it 
had  extended  from  Long  Island  Sound  to  the  south  ; and  now 
it  was  to  be  stretched  northwards  to  the  British  boundary  in 
New  Brunswick.  The  President  declared  by  proclamation  his 
conviction  that  a blockade  of  such  extent  could  not  be  main- 
tained ; pointed  out  that  it  had  not  succeeded  in  its  more  limited 
range  ; and  desired  that  all  possible  protection  and  service  should 
be  rendered  to  neutral  vessels  disposed  to  trade  with  the  United 
States. 

By  this  time,  midsummer,  the  troops  sent  from  Bordeaux, 
after  the  close  of  the  Peninsular  war,  were  about  to  arrive  at 
Quebec ; and  it  was  not  before  they  were  wanted.  In  the  fre- 
quent conflicts  on  the  borders  of  Canada,  many  hundreds  of  lives 
were  lost,  while  the  success  was  so  shifting,  that  no  permanent 
advantage  was  gained  by  either  party.  The  British  declared 
that  the  Americans  were  improving  wonderfully  in  military 
ability ; and  there  was  so  strong  a persuasion  that  they  were 
aided  by  treachery  in  Canada,  that  a considerable  number  of 
British  subjects  on  the  frontier  were  brought  to  trial.1  Canadian 
Fifteen  were  convicted,  and  eight  were  hanged  in  the  traitors- 
district  of  Niagara,  in  May.  The  arrival  of  the  Peninsular  troops 
in  such  a season  was  a matter  of  great  rejoicing. 

Meantime,  a plan  was  under  consideration,  further  south,  for 
making  the  blockade  serve  some  other  purpose  than  irritating 
and  annoying  the  residents  in  the  ports.  While  a man-of-war 
and  some  boats  proceeded  up  the  Chesapeake,  and  threatened 
Baltimore,  as  a diversion,  a blow  was  to  be  struck  at  the  Cap- 
ital. One  expedition  went  up  the  Potomac,  to  attack  Fort 
Washington  ; and  another  up  the  Patuxent,  where  the  capture  of 
American  Commodore,  Barney,  was  stationed  with  Washington, 
his  flotilla.  If  the  Fort  and  the  Commodore  could  be  over- 
powered, the  two  divisions  of  the  British  would  be  within  an 
easy  march  of  the  seat  of  Government.  Thus  far,  there  was 
nothing  to  And  fault  with.  The  enterprise  was  fair,  under  all 
the  rules  of  war.  But  there  was  an  ulterior  purpose,  which,  it 
is  believed,  was  concealed  from  all  the  officers  in  the  two  expe- 
ditions, except  those  actually  intrusted  with  the  commission.  It 
is  believed  that  the  offi  ers  who,  in  their  passage  up  the  Poto- 
mac, sailed  before  Mount  Vernon,  under  the  very  windows  of 
Washington’s  house,  were  not  aware  of  the  barbarous  nature  of 
their  errand  : and  this  is  probably  true ; for  they  assembled  on 
deck,  and  gazed,  bareheaded,  on  the  piazza  and  the  green  terrace 
where  the  patriot  was  wont  to  pace  to  and  fro.  as  he  meditated 
his  virtuous  acts.  These  officers  saw  his  dwelling,  and  they  saw 
his  tomb ; and  they  manifested  a reverence  which  would  have 
1 Annual  Register,  1814,  p.  183. 


394 


BURNING  OF  PUBLIC  BUILDINGS.  [Book  II 


hidden  itself  in  shame,  if  they  had  known  what  an  errand  they 
were  sent  on.  Commodore  Barney,  seeing  himself  sure  to  be 
overpowered,  blew  up  his  whole  flotilla.  Sixteen  vessels  were 
destroyed,  and  one  captured.  In  the  other  direction,  Fort  Wash- 
ington could  not  hold  out ; for  its  powder-magazine  blew  up,  as 
soon  as  the  British  commander,  Captain  Gordon,  began  to  bom- 
bard it.  The  commercial  city  of  Alexandria,  five  miles  from 
Washington,  was  thus  left  helpless;  and  it  submitted.  Not  only 
was  the  city  to  deliver  up  all  its  vessels  and  stores,  and  all  its 
merchandise,  but  its  public  buildings  and  works  were  to  be  de- 
stroyed. Happily,  there  was  not  time  to  complete  the  ravage. 
Owing  to  the  difficulty  of  the  navigation,  and  the  want  of  pilots, 
Captain  Gordon  had  been  ten  days  in  ascending  the  Potomac.1 
He  had  buoyed  the  channel,  in  preparation  for  his  return  ; but 
he  was  too  late  to  aid  in  the  capture  of  Washington  : and  the 
question  now  was,  whether  he  was  not  too  late  to  carry  back  his 
force  and  his  booty ; for  the  Americans  were  gathering  to  inter- 
cept him.  Leaving  much  of  his  booty  behind,  he  turned  sea- 
wards on  the  29th  of  August.  The  winds  were  contrary  ; and 
one  of  his  vessels  grounded,  in  face  of  an  American  force  upon 
the  banks;  but,  after  some  fighting  and  much  anxiety,  the  expe- 
dition regained  its  anchoring  ground  in  the  Chesapeake  on  the 
9th  of  September. 

The  other  half  of  the  expedition  had  destroyed  Washington  — 
that  is,  all  that  made  it  the  capital  of  the  United  States  — before 
Captain  Gordon  left  Alexandria.  The  British  captured  ten 
pieces  of  cannon,  and  lost  only  250  men,  killed  and  wounded,  in 
their  march  into  Washington.  It  was  eight  in  the  evening,  of 
the  24th  of  August,  when  General  Ross  and  his  little  army 
entered  the  city.  Before  it  was  dark  the  Capitol  was  burning; 
Burning  and  ^ie  incendiarism  did  not  cease  2 till  the  Houses  of 
the  state  Congress,  the  arsenal,  the  treasury,  the  dock-yard,  the 
offices-  war  office,  the  White  House  (the  President’s  palace), 
the  rope-walk,  the  great  bridge  over  the  Potomac,  a frigate,  and 
a sloop  of  war,  were  all  destroyed.  To  avoid  the  onset  of 
forces  raised  by  rage  and  vengeance,  the  British  lost  no  time  in 
retreating.  Before  dark  on  the  25th,  they  were  on  their  way 
back.  Admiral  Cockburn  claimed  and  had  the  questionable 
honor  of  planning  this  expedition,  and  arranging  its  details.  It 
is  an  honor  which  no  man,  probably,  would  now  covet.  The 
Americans  themselves  were  hardly  more  indignant  at  the  nature 
of  the  ravage  than  the  inhabitants  of  every  country  in  Europe 
who  heard  of  it.  The  calamities  of  war  were  but  too  well  known 
to  Europeans  ; but  everywhere  they  had  seen  respect  paid  to 
the  seats  and  offices  of  civil  government,  to  works  of  art,  and 
1 Annual  Register,  1814,  p.  185.  2 Ibid.  p.  184. 


Chap.  VII.] 


COMMISSION  AT  GHENT. 


395 


productions  of  pacific  use  or  ornament.  The  British  in  Washing- 
ton had,  for  the  most  part,  respected  private  property  and  had 
been  civil  to  the  residents ; but,  by  their  destruction  of  govern- 
ment offices,  and  the  early  specimens  of  art  among  a youthful 
people,  they  had  shown  a barbaric  spirit  of  which  every  conti- 
nental nation  would  have  been  ashamed. 

The  Americans  were  almost  as  angry  with  their  own  govern- 
ment as  with  the  British  ; and  it  appears  strange  that  the  capital 
should  have  been  left  so  ill  defended.  The  war  was  soon  to  come 
to  an  end  now ; for  the  Commissioners  in  Europe  w’ere  busy  at 
their  work  of  framing  a treaty.  Before  they  had  done,  the 
British  had  failed  in  a rash  and  ill-managed  attack  on  the  city  of 
Baltimore,  in  which  General  Ross  and  many  more  brave  soldiers 
from  Spain  were  killed  ; they  had  succeeded  in  obtaining  posses- 
sion of  the  region  lying  east,  of  the  Penobscot  River,  in  the 
State  of  Maine ; and  they  had  failed  in  an  inroad  upon  Lake 
Champlain,  from  which  much  was  expected.  The  troops  from 
the  Peninsula  were  there,  far  outnumbering  the  Americans ; but 
the  repulse  and  defeat  of  the  British  before  Plattsburg  were 
decisive,  and  their  loss  considerable,  while  the  enemy  suffered 
but  little.  The  people  of  Canada  were  now  as  discontented 
with  their  authorities  as  the  Americans  with  theirs,  about  the 
capture  of  Washington  ; and  it  was  well  that  the  Commissioners 
at  Ghent  were  coming  to  an  understanding. 

It  was  at  Ghent,  and  not  at  Gottenburg,  for  reasons  of  conven- 
ience, that  the  Commissioners  were  sitting.  The  commission 
three  British  were  Lord  Gambier,  Mr.  Goulburn,  and  atGhent- 
Mr.  Adams.  The  four  American  plenipotentiaries  were  John 
Quincy  Adams,  Henry  Clay,  J.  A.  Bayard,  and  Jonathan  Rus- 
sell. The  first  set  of  stipulations,  proposed  by  Great  Britain, 
were  laid  before  Congre-s  by  the  President  early  in  October,1 
and  at  once  rejected.  The  President,  in  the  midst  of  difficulties 
at  home,  did  not  choose  to  incur  the  responsibility  of  rejecting 
the  terms  offered  by  England ; and  he,  therefore,  ventured  upon 
the  unusual  act  of  laying  before  the  people  the  terms  of  a nego- 
tiation yet  in  suspense.  Massachusetts  and  other  New  England 
States  were  in  open  discontent  about  the  war,  and  proceeding  to 
take  the  matter  into  their  own  hands.  The  treasury  was  empty  ; 
and  the  list  of  new  taxes,  found  to  be  necessary,  was  such  as  it 
required  some  courage  to  bring  forward.  Napoleon  had,  by  this 
time,  fallen  ; Great  Britain  was  released  from  continental  war- 
fare, and  was  formidable  to  America  in  proportion.  Under  such 
circumstances,  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  President  cast  upon  Con- 
gress the  responsibility  of  declining  the  terms  of  peace.  Con- 
gress proceeded,  without  delay,  to  ordain  a vast  increase  ot 
1 Annual  Register,  1814,  p.  192. 


396 


BATTLE  OF  NEW  ORLEANS. 


[Book  It. 


force,  and  amendment  of  the  means  of  defence  ; and  it  was  with 
deep  sadness  of  heart  that  the  citizens  prepared  themselves  for 
a new  campaign  in  the  spring,  and  an  indefinite  continuance  of 
the  war.  But  the  Commissioners  at  Ghent  were  compromis- 
Treaty  ing  their  differences,  and  in  so  hearty  a spirit,  that 
agreed  upon.  they  were  atde  to  sign  their  treaty  on  the  24th  of 
December. 

It  was  sad  that  there  was  no  “ little  bird  to  carry  the  matter.” 
Mississippi  For  want  of  knowing  what  was  done  at  Ghent,  a 
expedition,  needless  and  disastrous  battle  was  fought  at  New 
Orleans.  On  Christmas  Day,  the  day  after  the  signature  of  the 
treaty,  Sir  Edward  Pakenham  chose  his  ground,  within  six  miles 
of  New  Orleans — the  Americans  having  better  defences  of 
canal  and  river  than  himself,  and  his  troops  being  fatigued  by 
the  difficult  and  hazardous  ascent  from  the  mouth  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi— a distance  of  110  miles  of  muddy  rushing  river,  and 
treacherous  swamp.  The  American  sharpshooters,  hanging 
round,  now  allowed  his  troops  no  continued  sleep.  It  was  clear 
that  the  British  could  do  nothing,  but  by  erecting  batteries.  The 
preparation  of  these,  and  the  bringing  up  of  heavy  cannon  and 
ammunition,  occupied  the  few  remaining  days  of  the  year.  The 
Americans  made  their  parapets  of  earth,  filled  up  in  the  intervals 
with  a few  cotton-bags.  In  imitation  of  these  bags,  the  British 
made  their  breastwork  of  barrels  of  molasses  and  sugar.  The 
American  material  was  the  best  of  the  two  for  resistance  to 
Battle  of  cannon-balls.  The  battle  of  New  Year’s  Day,  1815, 

New  Or-  destroyed  the  breastwork  of  the  British,  and  spilled 

all  the  molasses  and  sugar ; and  it  wasted  a vast 
quantity  of  ammunition,  and  of  human  strength,  without  any 
clear  result.  The  great  and  fatal  battle  was  fought,  four  miles 
from  the  city,  on  the  7th  of  January.  The  Americans  fought 
under  cover,  and  had  only  six  men  killed  and  seven  wounded ; 
while  the  British  lay  in  bloody  heaps  all  over  the  field.  Their 
total  loss,  in  the  whole  expedition,  was  3000  men. 

The  Americans,  under  General  Jackson,  afterwards  President, 
were  wide  awake  and  well  commanded  ; the  British  were  wea- 
ried and  ill  commanded.  Those  who  see  the  battle-field  now  can 
scarcely  conceive  that  any  soldiery  should  have  been  required  to 
spread  themselves  out  over  a wide  level,  wholly  without  shelter 
or  hollow,  to  be  slaughtered  by  men  under  cover.  But  it  was 
not  only  this.  A canal  was  attempted  to  be  dug,  in  a soil  which 
melted  into  the  water  as  fast  as  it  was  stirred,  and  in  which  boats 
were  mere  impediments.  Ladders  were  forgotten  when  breast- 
works were  to  be  mounted.  An  expedition  sent  over  the  river, 
to  capture  a battery,  was  three  hours  behind  its  time,  from 
unforeseen  hindrances.  Everything  went  wrong ; and,  at  a 


Chap.  VII.]  INCIDENTS  OF  THE  BATTLE. 


397 


critical  moment,  Sir  Edward  Pakenham  was  killed ; and  then 
the  two  generals  who  succeeded  him  were  carried  off  the  field 
wounded,  one  mortally.  There  is  little  doubt,  from  the  vast 
loss  in  officers,  that  they  were  picked  off  by  marksmen  behind  the 
American  breastworks.  And  this  proved  the  quickest  way  of 
putting  an  end  to  the  fighting.  When  the  men  were  bewildered, 
for  lack  of  leaders,  they  took  flight  in  extreme  disorder.  Gen- 
eral Lambert,  on  whom  the  command  devolved,  brought  up  the 
reserve,  to  enable  them  to  rally  by  covering  their  flight ; and, 
when  they  were  reassembled  in  something  like  order,  he  de- 
spatched a flag  of  truce  with  a request  for  time  to  collect  and 
bury  his  dead. 

On  the  American  side,  as  has  been  said,  all  was  vigilance  and 
prudence.  It  has  been  remarked  upon,  in  a somewhat  scornful 
tone,  that  they  never  came  out  from  their  defences ; but  it  is 
difficult  to  see  why  they  should.  They  did  not  seek  the  conflict. 
They  were  invaded ; they  fought  in  self-defence ; and  they 
gained  their  objects.  They  saved  their  city  ; they  disabled  the 
enemy ; and  they  threw  away  no  lives  uselessly.  No  instances 
of  cowardice  are  on  record,  but  several  of  bravery.  The  patri- 
otic citizen-spirit,  animating  the  faculties,  is  perhaps  the  most 
remarkable  feature  in  the  case  of  the  invaded.  In  a country- 
house,  four  miles  from  New  Orleans,  a youth  was  sitting  at  din- 
ner, twelve  days  before  the  great  battle,  when  one  of  his  father’s 
slaves  came  in,  and  told  him  that  there  were  some  men  in  red 
coats  in  the  yard.  Instantly  comprehending  that  the  American 
scouts  had  been  captured,  the  youth  bolted  through  the  window, 
and  into  a canoe,  and  crossed  the  vast  river  amidst  a shower  of 
balls ; laid  hands  on  a horse,  and  galloped  to  the  city,  where 
the  troops  were,  on  his  information,  collected  by  drum  and  bell. 
In  twelve  hours,  New  Orleans  was  prepared.  Everybody  sup- 
posed the  British  would  follow  the  trusty  scout ; and,  if  they  had, 
they  would  have  taken  possession  of  New  Orleans  almost  with- 
out having  to  strike  a blow.  Why  they  did  not,  the  Americans 
do  not  at  this  hour  understand.  Sir  Edward  Pakenham  was 
very  near  dying  before  the  battle.  His  head-quarters  were  at 
a house  still  conspicuous  on  the  plain.  He  and  some  of  his 
officers  were  standing  in  the  balcony,  when  they  were  recognized 
by  some  spying  Americans  at  a distance.  A gunner  was  or- 
dered to  aim  at  them.  Seeing  the  importance  of  the  shot,  he 
lost  nerve,  and  struck  the  river,  a mile  off.  Being  ordered  to 
retire,  and  aware  that  this  was  the  crisis  of  his  professional  fate, 
he  implored  that  he  might  have  one  more  chance.  It  was 
granted ; and  he  hit  the  pillar  which  supported  the  balcony, 
immediately  under  the  feet  of  the  officers,  who  hurried  into  the 
house. 


398 


TREATY  OF  GHENT. 


[Book  II, 


It  was  not  till  the  18th  of  January  that  General  Lambert 
Retreat  of  moved  off.  The  retreat  was  well  managed  and  orderly  ; 
the  British.  and  Americans  did  not  interfere  with  it.  Many 
British  soldiers,  worn  beyond  endurance,  deserted ; and  ten 
pieces  of  cannon  were  left  behind  — disabled.  The  broken  and 
mortified  expedition  got  back  to  the  ships,  off  the  mouth  of  the 
Mississippi,  indisposed  for  further  enterprise  ; and  the  delighted 
citizens  of  New  Orleans  celebrated  the  fame  of  General  Jackson, 
as  “ the  Conqueror  of  the  conquerors  of  Napoleon.”  In  a little 
while  arrived  the  news  that  peace  had  been  agreed  upon  before 
the  young  planter  had  so  hastily  left  his  dinner.  When  the 
tidings  reached  the  shores  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  the  garrison 
of  Fort  Mobile  had  surrendered  to  Admiral  Cochrane  and 
General  Lambert.  They  considered  it  a good  basis  for  opera- 
tions on  the  Mississippi ; but  the  British  had  now  nothing  more 
to  do  with  the  great  river  but  to  trade  upon  it. 

The  treaty  of  Ghent  left  almost  everything  where  it  was  be- 
Treaty  of  fore  the  war.  The  mutual  concessions  of  parties,  both 
Ghent-  eager  for  peace,  amounted  to  little  more  than  postpon- 
ing the  most  difficult  questions  for  future  settlement.  This  was 
the  case  with  regard  to  the  supremely  important  point  of  the 
boundaries.  Commissioners  were  to  negotiate  this  hereafter. 
The  Indians  were  to  possess  the  territories  and  privileges  they 
had  before  the  war,  and  to  remain  unmolested  by  the  whites  on 
both  sides.  Both  parties  were  to  use  every  effort  for  the  aboli- 
tion of  the  Slave-trade.  Nothing  was  gained,  on  either  side,  in 
regard  to  the  ostensible  objects  of  the  war ; 1 and  a senator  from 
New  York  declared,  in  Congress,  that  the  Treaty  of  Ghent  was 
less  favorable  to  his  country  than  that,  negotiated  by  Pinckney 
and  Monroe  in  1808,  which  Jefferson  thought  unworthy  of  being 
even  laid  before  Congress.  Yet,  so  glad  was  New  York  of  even 
this  peace,  that  the  Englishman  who  carried  out  the  ratification 
was  borne  in  triumph,  and  amidst  a tumult  of  welcome,  through 
the  streets  of  the  city.  The  President  was  relieved  from  a most 
embarrassing  position ; the  State  was  suddenly  relieved  from  a 
threatening  political  quarrel ; the  commerce  of  the  Eastern  States 
was  relieved  from  the  restrictions  and  perils  of  war ; and  the 
agriculture  of  the  south  and  west,  from  a ruinous  burden  of  tax- 
ation. The  English  were  enabled  to  declare  themselves  at  peace 
with  all  the  world ; and  it  only  remain <jd  for  all  to  wish  that  the 
folly  and  crime  had  never  been  committed,  and  that  from  among 
the  records  of  History  could  be  torn  that  page  which  must  con- 
tain the  narrative  of  the  bootless  war  of  1812-15. 

1 Bradford’s  History  of  Massachusetts,  p.  413. 


Chap.  YIII.l  THE  REGENT  AND  HIS  FAMILY. 


333 


CHAPTER  YIII. 

In  proportion  as  the  King’s  recovery  became  more  hopeless, 
public  attention  was  fixed  on  the  family  of  the  Regent.  It  was 
not  an  agreeable  spectacle  — the  proceedings  of  that  The  Regent 
unhappy  family  ; but  the  only  child,  the  young  Prin-  and  his 
cess  who  was  to  be  our  Queen,  was  an  object  of  hope  family‘ 
and  of  strong  popular  affection.  Her  mother  was  showing  a 
boldness  which  we  now  know  to  have  been  nothing  short  of  au 
dacity.  She  was  perpetually  calling  for  the  production  of  papers, 
recording  an  inquiry  made  into  her  conduct  in  1806.  We  know, 
from  Sir  S.  Romilly’s  Diary,1  that  the  production  of  those  papers 
would  have  ruined  her  reputation  with  the  people  of  England. 
She  was,  no  doubt,  well  aware  that  the  Ministers  dared  not,  for 
their  own  sakes,  produce  these  papers.  The  fact  was  so  ; her 
boldness  naturally  and  properly  won  confidence  ; her  cause  rose 
with  every  debate  in  parliament  on  her  affairs ; and  on  her  hus- 
band rested  the  entire  censure  called  forth  by  her  case.  Cen- 
surable as  his  conduct  towards  her  had  been,  he  now  suffered 
under  more  blame  than  was  just.  He  was  very  unhappy.  In 
1811,  we  find  him  growing  “serious;”  reading  the  Bible  daily 
with  Lady  Hertford.  But  his  occasional  fits  of  religion  did  not 
improve  his  temper  or  his  habits.  He  was  as  selfish  and  as 
vindictive  in  the  midst  of  them  as  before.  After  Lords  Gren- 
ville and  Grey  had  refused  office,  in  February,  1812,  the  Regent 
spoke  against  them  in  such  violent  terms  at  table,  on  occasion  of 
giving  a dinner  to  his  daughter,  that  the  Princess  shed  tears.2 
From  table  she  went  to  the  Opera,  and,  seeing  Lord  Grey,  kissed 
her  hand  to  him,  and  smiled  upon  him  very  graciously.  It  was 
a bitter  mortification  to  her  when,  in  June,  her  friends,  on  the 
very  verge  of  office,  were  turned  back  for  the  sake  of  the  Hert- 
fords  and  the  Yarmouths  who  were  in  the  Household.  It  should 
be  mentioned  that  the  fault,  in  this  case,  did  not  rest  with  the 
Hertfords  and  the  Yarmouths,  or  any  other  members  of  the 
Household  ; nor  yet  with  Lord  Moira,  the  representative  of  the 
Regent  ; and  much  less,  with  Lords  Grenville  and  Grey.  It 
was  Sheridan,  now  battered  and  broken  by  dissipation,  and  sink- 
1 Memoirs,  iii  p.  86.  2 Memoirs  of  Ward,  i.  p.  432 


400 


THE  PRINCESS  CHARLOTTE. 


[Book  II. 


ing  under  habits  of  intoxication,  who  had  it  in  his  power  to  do 
this  great  mischief  — of  keeping  out  Lords  Grey  and  Grenville. 
Pie  did  it  by  a trick,  the  meanness  of  which  he  was  wholly  unable 
to  explain  away.  Lord  Yarmouth  formally  commissioned  Sher- 
idan to  convey  to  Lords  Grey  and  Grenville  the  intention  of  the 
Household  to  resign.  Sheridan  first  strove  to  change  this  pur- 
pose ; 1 then  suppressed  the  intelligence  of  it ; and  lastly,  when 
questioned  by  Mr.  Tierney  on  the  subject,  offered  to  bet  five 
hundred  guineas  that  nobody  in  the  Household  thought  of  resign- 
ing. It  was  well  understood  that  he  acted  in  this  manner  to 
please  the  Regent  ; but  this  is  no  excuse,  and  merely  implicates 
another  person  in  the  dishonor.  When  the  new  Parliament  met, 
after  the  change  of  Ministry,  the  Regent  went  to  open  it,  and  the 
Princess  Charlotte  to  witness  the  ceremony.  The  father  was  re- 
ceived, in  the  streets,2  u with  the  deepest  and  most  humiliating 
silence  the  daughter  with  loud  and  repeated  huzzas. 

In  the  next  January,  the  Princess,  having  now  completed  her 
The  Princess  17th  year,  was  watched,  at  home  and  throughout  the 
Charlotte.  kingdom ; her  proceedings  being  no  longer  those  of  a 
child.  Her  father  ordered  new  restrictions  on  her  intercourse 
with  her  mother.  The  mother  remonstrated  in  a letter ; the  let- 
ter was  twice  returned  unopened  — through  the  repugnance  of 
the  Regent  to  hold  any  communication  whatever  with  the  per- 
son whose  very  handwriting  vexed  his  eyes.  When  the  letter 
appeared  in  the  newspapers,  and  was  read  by  everybody  but 
himself,  he  was  compelled  to  take  some  notice  of  it ; and  he 
summoned  a Privy  Council  3 to  advise  him  how  to  deal  with  it. 
There  was  no  practical  result,  except  upon  the  warm  temper  of 
the  young  Princess,  who,  having  no  great  reason  before  to  love 
her  father,  was  now  urged  by  all  her  best  feelings  to  take  part 
with  her  mother.  Cautious  and  politic  men,  like  the  Chancellor, 
saw  the  mischief  that  was  done,  and  would  have  no  hand  in  the 
doing  of  it ; and  the  consequence  was  that  the  Regent  treated 
Lord  Eldon  with  so  much  unkindness,  that  the  unhappy  courtier 
declared  himself 4 “ too  low,  and  too  ill,  to  mix  with  the  world,” 
and  in  full  expectation  of  having  to  resign  his  office.  He  had 
been  near  losing  the  Great  Seal  in  a different  way,  a few  weeks 
before.  A fire  breaking  out  in  his  country-house  when  he  was 
there,  the  Chancellor’s  first  thought  was  of  the  Great  Seal ; and 
he  buried  it  with  his  own  hands.  After  the  confusion  of  the 
fire,  he  could  not  remember  where  he  had  buried  it ; and  it  was 
not  till  the  whole  household  had  dug  and  probed  for  some  time 
that  it  was  recovered.  He  did  not  lose  the  Chancellorship  just 
now,  however ; and  the  Regent  was  friendly  to  him  on  all  other 

1 Life  of  Sheridan,  ii.  p.  426.  2 Memoirs  of  Romilly,  iii.  p.  7d. 

8 Hansard,  xxiv.  p.  1145.  4 Life,  ii.  p.  232. 


Chap.  VIII.]  HER  FLIGHT  TO  HER  MOTHER. 


401 


subjects  than  that  of  the  wife  and  daughter.  At  the  end  of  the 
year,  1813,  the  young  Princess  was  confirmed  at  Windsor.  In 
the  spring,  it  was  universally  believed  that  she  was  to  be  married. 
The  King  of  Holland,  in  an  address  to  his  States,1  Hersuitors 
spoke  of  the  approaching  marriage  of  his  heir,  the  The  Prince 
Prince  of  Orange,  with  the  heiress  of  the  English  01  0range- 
throne.  No  reason  was  assigned  for  the  rupture  of  the  engage- 
ment ; but  incidents  enough  occurred  in  the  early  part  of  the 
summer  to  occasion  abundant  speculation. 

It  was  the  summer  of  the  Peace,  when  the  allied  Sovereigns 
visited  London.  The  Queen  held  two  drawing-rooms.  An 
intimation  reached  her  that  the  Princess  of  Wales  intended  to 
appear  at  one  of  them.  As  the  Regent  must  be  present,  the 
Queen  was  compelled  to  intimate  to  the  Princess  that  she  could 
not  be  received.  Once  more,  the  Princess  had  the  matter  car- 
ried before  the  House  of  Commons,  where  there  was  a debate 
upon  it.2  On  the  12th  of  the  next  month,  the  Regent  visited 
his  daughter,  accompanied  by  her  tutor,  the  Bishop  of  Salisbury, 
and  informed  her,  in  a manner  universally  believed  to  have  been 
startling  and  harsh,  that  her  servants  were  dismissed,  and  that 
she  must  immediately  go  home  with  him  to  Carlton  House. 
The  Princess  retired,  not  only  from  his  presence,  but  Herflight 
from  the  house.  With  a little  basket  in  her  hand,  to  her° 
she  escaped  by  a back  staircase,  threw  herself  into  a mother‘ 
hackney-coach,  and  desired  to  be  driven  to  Connaught  House, 
her  mother’s  present  residence.  Her  mother,  much  embarrassed, 
drove  down  to  the  House  of  Commons,  to  ask  her  advisers  what 
she  ought  to  do.  Mr.  Brougham  returned  with  her.  It  was 
three  in  the  morning  before  the  young  Princess  yielded  to  the 
advice  of  her  uncles,  the  Dukes  of  York  and  Sussex,  Mr. 
Brougham,  and  the  Chancellor,  and  permitted  herself  to  be  con- 
veyed to  Carlton  House.  After  a short  residence  there,  she  was 
removed  to  Cranbourne  House,  near  Windsor,  which  was  now 
considered  her  fixed  residence.  Her  mother,  harassed  and  mor- 
tified by  the  neglect  with  which  she  had  been  treated  during  this 
summer  of  fetes  and  universal  alliance,  went  abroad.  She  at 
first  proposed  merely  a short  visit  to  her  brother,  the  Duke  of 
Brunswick  ; but  from  his  Court  she  proceeded  to  Italy ; and  when 
nothing  was  heard  of  any  intention  to  return,  the  Regent  began 
to  hope  that  he  was  rid  of  her  forever. 

The  natural  inference  from  what  people  saw,  in  the  case  of 
the  Prince  of  Orange,  was  that  the  Princess  Charlotte  Prince  Leo_ 
was  attached  elsewhere,  or  that  the  young  people,  on  poidofSaxe 
meeting,  did  not  like  each  other.  If  the  Princess  had  Coburg‘ 
an  attachment  elsewhere,  it  was  not,  as  yet,  to  her  future  hus- 

1 Hansard,  xxviii.  p.  105.  2 Ibid.  p.  131. 

vol.  i.  26 


402 


PRINCE  LEOPOLD.— IRISH  AFFAIRS.  [Book  II. 


band,  though  they  were  married  in  less  than  two  years  from  this 
time.  Prince  Leopold  of  Saxe  Coburg  was  Aide-de-camp  to 
the  Grand  Duke  Constantine,  and  was  in  Paris  with  the  con- 
querors of  Napoleon  in  the  spring  of  this  year.  He  seems  to 
have  been  always  in  love  in  those  days ; and  he  was  now  paying 
attentions  to  a young  English  lady  in  Paris.1  On  the  invitation 
of  her  relatives,  he  came  over  with  the  Sovereigns,  saw  the 
Princess  Charlotte,  and  supposed  himself  distinguished  by  her. 
He  offered,  and  was  refused.  He  next  fell  in  love  with  a lady 
at  Vienna,  during  the  session  of  Congress  there  in  the  autumn. 
A friend  in  London  wrote  to  him  to  say  that  the  Princess  Char- 
lotte was  now  free,  and  that  he  had  better  not  be  so  open  in  his 
attentions  to  the  German  lady.  He  returned  to  London  ; pro- 
posed, and  was  this  time  accepted.  The  amiable  Princess  Mary 
was  deeply  interested  in  this  affair.  The  Duke  of  Gloucester 
was  understood  to  be  necessarily  reserved  for  the  Princess  Char- 
lotte, in  case  of  the  heiress  of  the  crown  forming  no  other  con- 
nection ; but  the  Duke  of  Gloucester  and  the  Princess  Mary 
were  believed  to  have  been  long  attached.  When,  on 
Marriage.  evening  of  the  2d  of  May,  1815,  the  Princess 

Charlotte,  just  married,  descended  the  grand  staircase  at  Carlton 
House,  she  was  met  at  the  foot  by  the  Princess  Mary,  who,  with 
her  face  bathed  in  tears,  opened  her  arms  to  the  bride.  The 
Duke  of  Gloucester  and  the  Princess  Mary  were  married  on 
the  2 2d  of  July  following. 

The  Irish  Disturbances  Bill  of  1807  had  been  repealed  in 
1810,  on  the  motion  of  the  Irish  Secretary,  Mr.  Wel- 
irish  affairs.  jesjey  p0je>  The  time  was  past  for  the  construction  of 
Cabinets  on  the  principle  of  excluding  the  Catholics  from  politi- 
cal rights,  while  it  had  not  come  for  giving  them  any  clear  hope 
of  admission  to  the  ordinary  privileges  of  citizens.  In  order  to 
be  ready  for  any  favorable  contingency,  the  Catholic  body  formed 
themselves  into  an  Association  which  the  government  in  vain  en- 
deavored to  put  down,  during  the  years  1811  and  1812.  In 
1813,  a relief  was  obtained  by  the  Catholics  which  nobody  could 
object  to ; 2 and  Lord  Liverpool  offered  his  ready  acquiescence. 
It  was  simply  provided  that  Catholic  holders  of  any  civil  or  mili- 
tary office  in  Ireland,  who  should  have  taken  the  oaths  prescribed 
by  Irish  Acts,  should  be  exempt  elsewhere  from  penalties  due  in 
such  places  for  not  taking  the  oaths  imposed  after  the  Restora- 
tion. The  same  exemption  was  to  apply  in  case  of  a Catholic 
Irish  officer  in  the  army  being  promoted  to  a higher  rank  in  Eng- 
land. As  the  war  drew  to  a close,  more  information  was  brought 
to  government  of  the  treasonable  combinations  which  were  tak- 
ing place,  with  a view  to  keep  up  a tacit  political  understanding 

i Alison’s  History,  x.  pp.  530,  531  2 Life  of  Lord  Eldon,  ii.  p.  244. 


Chap.  VIII.]  THE  LIBERTY  OF  THE  PRESS. 


403 


between  Ireland  and  France.  Absurd  as  were  such  schemes, 
they  interfered  fatally  with  the  tranquillity  of  Ireland,  and  with 
the  execution  of  the  laws.  Such  was  the  statement 1 by  which 
Mr.  Peel  justified  his  request  to  parliament  to  revive  the  Act 
relating  to  Irish  Disturbances,  which  w7as  repealed  in  1810. 
Most  of  the  members  were  satisfied  to  grant  the  Act  on  the  mere 
statement  of  the  Irish  Secretary.  Sir  Henry  Parnell  and  Mr. 
Horner  met  but  little  support  in  their  demand  for  a committee, 
or  some  other  method  of  ascertaining  the  facts  on  which  parlia- 
ment was  about  to  legislate.  The  Act  was  passed  before  the 
end  of  July,  together  with  a milder  one  for  the  preservation  of 
the  peace.  In  November  Mr.  Peel  moved  to  amend  the  Bill  of 
July,2  in  regard  merely  to  a difficulty  in  its  application,  and  he 
took  the  opportunity  of  explaining  that  the  Peace  Preservation 
Act  had  been  needed  only  in  one  instance ; and  then,  by  desire 
of  residents  ; while  the  Insurrection  Act  had  not  been  used  at 
all.  Amidst  the  ordinary  amount  of  argument  as  to  whether  any 
occasion  for  so  stringent  a law  had  ever  existed  at  all,  it  was  clear 
that  now,  at  the  close  of  fifteen  years  from  that  Union  which  was 
to  make  all  safe,  harmonious,  and  prosperous,  between  England 
and  Ireland,  even  distinguishing  the  century  through  all  future 
time,  there  was  grievous  disappointment  on  every  hand.  The 
Catholics  still  lay  under  political  disabilities,  and  the  people  were 
coerced  by  Insurrection  Acts.  The  time  was  to  be  just  doubled 
before  the  most  bitter  of  Irish  complaints  was  to  be  redressed, 
after  an  interval  of  mischief,  misery,  and  apprehension,  sufficient 
for  the  conversion  of  even  the  Duke  of  Wellington  and  Mr. 
Peel. 

These  were  days  in  which  the  liberty  of  the  Press  was  assailed 
by  government  to  an  extent  which  might  almost  make 
us  doubt  whether  it  could  be  in  our  own  England  that 
the  trials  took  place  which  became  so  numerous  under  Sir  Vicary 
Gibbs  — the  Attorney-General  under  the  Perceval  Ministry.3 
The  yearly  average  of  informations  for  libel  under  the  present 
reign,  up  to  1808,  had  been  two ; in  the  course  of  the  next  three 
years  there  had  been  forty  ; that  is,  nearly  fourteen  per  year. 
It  did  not  mend  the  matter  that  prosecution  did  not  always,  fol- 
low on  the  filing  of  informations.  In  many  cases,  the  Attorney- 
General  kept  the  matter  suspended,  when  his  victims  would  have 
been  glad  to  have  it  settled,  at  almost  any  cost.  These  facts 
were  brought  forward  by  Lord  Folkestone  in  parliament,  in 
March,  1811  ; but  his  motion  for  papers  was  rejected  by  a very 
large  majority.  In  February,  1810,  Mr.  Perry,  the 
able  and  accomplished  editor  of  the  “ Morning  Chroni-  Mr‘  Perry* 


i Hansard,  xxviii.  pp.  163,  172 
8 Life  of  Romilly,  ii.  p.  380. 


2 Ibid.  xxix.  p.  335. 


401 


A ; II -STS  FOR  LIBEL. 


[Book  II. 


cle,”  was  brought  to  trial  for  having  copied  from  the  “ Examiner  ” 
a passage  about  the  King,  declared  to  be  libellous.  Mr.  Perry 
defended  himself,  and  the  jury  acquitted  him.  In  the  next 
June,1  Mr.  Cobbett,  then  a man  of  powerful  influence 
Mr.  cobbett.  t}lr0Ug|1  the  combination  of  vigorous  talent  in  himself 
and  the  prevalence  of  political  grievances,  was  prosecuted  for  an 
article  in  his  “ Political  Register  ” (coarse  and  violent  enough)  on 
Military  flogging.  In  those  days,  it  was  a heinous  offence  to  call 
in  question  any  principle  or  practice  of  naval  or  military  disci- 
pline ; and  a man  paid  dear  for  expressing  his  feelings  on  the 
subject  of  those  floggings  against  which  the  world  has  since  made 
such  an  outcry  that  they  are  wellnigh  abolished,  and  with  the 
best  results  on  the  character  of  the  soldier.  In  the  days  under 
notice,  two  great  men  — Lord  Hutchinson  and  Sir  S.  Romilly 
— could  sit  together  at  the  Duke  of  Gloucester’s  table,  and  tell 
and  hear  horrible  stories  of  military  floggings  ; and  Romilly 
might  groan  over  the  facts  in  his  Diary ; but  a Cobbett,  a Scott, 
a Hunt,  might  not  say  the  same  things  in  a newspaper  without 
danger  of  fine  and  imprisonment,  under  a charge  of  using  the 
press  as  a means  of  exciting  insubordination  in  the  army.  Cob- 
bett defended  himself ; but  not  with  Perry’s  ability  and  success. 
Fie  was  convicted,  fined  1000/.  and  sentenced  to  two  years’  im- 
prisonment. A few  weeks  afterwards,2  some  remarks  on  the 
same  sore  subject  were  contributed  to  a Lincolnshire  paper,  “ the 
Stamford  News,”  by  Mr.  John  Scott,  a gentleman  of 
r'  c°  ' high  accomplishments  and  excellent  temper,  who  was 
nevertheless  drawn  into  the  perils  of  libel  in  those  duelling  days, 
and  was  shot  in  a duel  by  dim  moonlight,  by  an  antagonist  whose 
intention  was  not  to  harm  him.  The  article  in  <k  the  Stamford 
News,”  was  pounced  upon  by  the  Attorney- General ; and  the 
Editor,  Mr.  Drakard,  steadily  refusing  to  give  up  the  author,  was 
prosecuted.  The  article  had  been  copied  into  the  London  “ Ex- 
aminer,” edited  by  the  brothers  John  and  Leigh  Hunt.  The 
Hunts  were  prosecuted  also  ; and  both  they  and  Mr. 
The  Hunts.  ]yrakar(j  were  defended  by  Mr.  Brougham.  The 
Hunts  were  acquitted,  in  the  face  of  a very  strong  charge  of 
Lord  Ellenborough,  in  which  he  declared  there  could  be  no 
doubt  of  the  seditious  intentions  of  the  defendants.  A provin- 
cial jury  decided  differently  in  the  other  case.  Mr.  Drakard 
was  convicted,  brought  up  for  judgment  to  the  Court  of  King’s 
Bench,  and  sentenced  to  eighteen  months’  imprisonment.  Within 
two  years  the  Hunts  were  again  on  their  trial,  for  a libel 
against  the  Prince  Regent.  They  were  again  defended  by  Mr. 
Brougham,  and  judged  by  Lord  Ellenborough,  who  showed  even 

1 Annual  Register,  1810.  Chron.  257. 

2 Lord  Brougham’s  Speeches,  i.  p.  6. 


Chap.  VIII.]  OFFICE  OF  VICE-CHANCELLOR. 


405 


more  violence  than  before ; violence  so  great  as  to  cause  not  only 
indignation  among  the  whole  bar,1  who  felt  their  professional 
honor  wounded  by  it,  but  regret  among  his  brother  judges.  He 
condescended  to  say  that  Mr.  Brougham  was  inoculated  with  all 
the  poison  of  the  libel ; and  that  the  issue  to  be  tried  by  the  jury 
was,  whether  Englishmen  were  to  live  for  the  future  under  the 
dominion  of  libellers.  The  Hunts  were  sentenced  to  two  years’ 
imprisonment  and  a fine  of  500/.  each.  In  a subsequent  page  it 
will  be  seen  what  an  intolerable  pass  the  government  prosecutions 
for  libel  had  reached  in  five  years  from  this  time. 

During  the  panic  of  twenty  years  before,  about  the  spread  of 
the  principles  of  the  French  Revolution,  an  Act  had  printers’ 
been  passed  by  which  printers  were  compelled  to  put  Name  BilL 
their  names  at  the  beginning  of  every  publication,  and  at  the  end 
of  all  that  extended  beyond  a single  sheet.  Under  this  Act, 
great  abuses  had  grown  up ; the  fines  being  so  loosely  imposed, 
that  informers  could  take  advantage  of  an  act  of  mere  careless- 
ness in  servants  to  get  master-printers  fined  to  the  extent  of 
20,000/.  or  30,000/.  for  a single  oversight.2  Informers  were  even 
found  to  have  laid  traps,  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  their  share 
of  fines.  In  March,  1811,  the  facts  were  represented  in  a Peti- 
tion from  the  printers  and  publishers  of  the  United  Kingdom  ; 
and  their  cause  was  pleaded  in  parliament.  It  was  shown  that 
the  fine  in  a single  case  might  be  made  to  amount  to  100,000/. ; 
and  that  every  publication  yet  prosecuted  on  this  ground  had 
been  of  an  innocent  and  useful  nature.  The  Attorney-General, 
who  had  actually  been  obliged  to  bring  in  a Bill  to  indemnify 
the  convicted  publishers,  in  certain  cases,  now  agreed  to  a sug- 
gestion of  Sir  S.  Romilly,  that  a limitation  should  be  fixed  to  the 
fining  power  of  magistrates.3  Henceforth,  while  the  magistrate 
might,  at  his  discretion,  mitigate  the  fine  to  5/.,  he  could  not  im- 
pose more  than  twenty-five  penalties  of  20/.  : that  is,  500/.  An 
appeal  to  the  Quarter  sessions  was  also  allowed,  if  entered  within 
twenty  days  after  conviction. 

Just  at  the  close  of  the  Session  of  1812,  a Bill  was  brought 
down  from  the  Cabinet  which  it  is  scarcely  conceiva- 
ble that  the  Ministers  could  have  desired  to  pass  im-  the  office  of 
mediately ; yet  Lord  Castlereagh  insisted  that  they  Jg{^han' 
did  desire  and  expect  it.  The  lawyers  were  all  absent 
on  circuit,4  and  other  members  were  dropping  homewards,  when 
the  Masters  in  Chancery  brought  down  to  the  Commons  a Bill 
which  Lord  Redesdale,  under  Lord  Eldon’s  sanction,  had  intro- 
duced in  the  Lords,  for  creating  the  Office  of  Vice-Chancellor. 
The  object  was  to  enable  the  King  to  appoint  a barrister  of  not 

1 Memoirs  of  Horner,  ii.  p.  139.  2 Memoirs  of  Romilly,  ii.  p.  384. 

8 Hansard,  xix.  p.  729.  4 Memoirs  of  Romilly,  iii.  p.  49. 


406  ATTAINDER.  — CORRUPTION  OF  BLOOD.  [Book  II. 


less  than  fifteen  years’  standing  to  be  an  Assistant  to  the  Chan- 
cellor, under  the  title  of  Vice-Chancellor  of  England.  He  was 
to  be  under  the  direction  and  control  of  the  Chancellor,  to  be  re- 
movable at  pleasure,  to  sit  whenever  and  wherever  his  superior 
should  appoint,  and  to  manage  such  business  only  as  the  Chancel- 
lor should  set  him  to  do.  It  was  immediately  clear  to  Romilly 
and  others  that  this  was  a lightening  of  the  duties  of  the  Chan- 
cellor, without  any  diminution  of  its  emoluments  ; that  it  tended 
to  render  the  office  more  than  ever  political,  and  by  so  much  less 
judicial ; and  that  it  would  most  injuriously  affect  the  law  and 
practice  of  the  Court  of  Chancery.  The  measure  stood  over  till 
the  next  session ; and  meantime,  there  was  a new  parliament. 
Romilly,  having  been  thrown  out  at  the  Bristol  election,  did  not 
reenter  the  House  till  after  the  Christmas  recess.  In  the  inter- 
val, he  published  a pamphlet,  setting  forth,  not  his  political,  but 
his  legal  objections  to  the  Bill.  It  was  brought  forward  on  the 
1st  of  December,  with  the  intention  of  its  being  passed  immedi- 
ately ; but  some  objections  of  Lord  Holland’s  delayed  it  till  after 
the  holidays.  Romilly,  being  by  that  time  in  the  House,  opposed 
it  to  the  utmost  of  his  power;  but  it  was  passed  on  the  11th  of 
March,  1813.  The  salary  was  6000/.  a year  — since  reduced 
to  5000/.,  with  a retiring  pension  of  2500/.  Within  a few 
years,  two  more  Vice-Chancellors  have  been  appointed,  who  re- 
ceive similar  emoluments.  Since  their  appointment,1  a main  part 
of  the  business  of  the  Chancellor’s  Court  has  been  the  rehear- 
ing of  causes  brought  up  by  appeal  from  the  Vice-Chancellors’ 
courts.  Original  causes  are  nowr  usually  confined  to  those  courts, 
and  that  of  the  Master  of  the  Rolls ; while  the  higher  Court  is 
chiefly  occupied  with  appeals  from  below.  What  further  changes 
will  be  necessary  in  this  department  of  the  State  must  inevita- 
bly be  settled  in  the  course  of  the  century.  Meantime,  it  is 
worthy  of  remembrance  that  the  first  grand  innovation  took 
place,  under  the  sanction  of  Lord  Eldon,  in  1813.  The  new  At- 
torney-General, Plumer,  was  appointed  the  first  Vice-Chancellor ; 
and  his  place  was  filled  by  Garrow,  the  Solicitor- General. 

It  was  this  Solicitor- General  Garrow  who  had  just  signalized 
Attainder  name  by  opposition  to  two  measures  of  Romilly’s, 

Corruption  which  it  was  a sufficient  disgrace  to  the  age  that  Rom- 
of  blood.  illy  should  have  to  bring  forward.  The  one  was  to 

remove  the  corruption  of  blood  in  cases  of  attainder,  except  for 
certain  extreme  offences ; and  the  other  was  to  abolish  the  bar- 
barous parts  of  the  process  of  execution  for  high  treason.  The 
infliction  of  corruption  of  blood  in  cases  of  attainder  — the 
dreadful  evil  of  visiting  the  children  forever  for  the  offences 
of  the  parent  — was  clearly  never  designed  as  punishment  for 
1 Political  Dictionary,  i.  p.  485. 


Chap.  VIII.]  PENALTY  FOR  HIGH  TREASON. 


407 


offence,  but  was  a necessary  consequence  of  feudal  tenures.  To 
those  who  wonder  at  the  obstinacy  of  men  in  former  ages  — and 
the  number  was  very  considerable  — who  endured  “ pressing  to 
death  ” (a  torture  of  many  days’  duration)  rather  than  plead  to 
an  indictment,  it  is  an  affecting  explanation  that  husbands  and 
parents  endured  this  for  the  sake  of  their  wives  and  their  pos- 
terity. Many  a man  has  died  this  horrible  death  in  the  Press- 
yard  of  Newgate,  and  in  other  prisons,  rather  than  so  plead  as 
that  his  trial  might  go  on,  and  sentence  be  reached,  and  attainder 
pronounced,  and  thence  his  widow’s  dower  be  forfeited  and  cor- 
ruption of  blood  visit  his  descendants,  so  that  they  could  not  only 
derive  no  inheritance  from  him,  but  could  never  derive  any  title 
to  land,  or  other  privileges,  since  the  course  of  transmission 
would  be  stopped  in  him.  Romilly  was  ready  to  show  that  the 
law  had  become  perverted  by  change  of  circumstances,  being 
made  a penalty  when  such  was  not  the  original  intention  ; but 
Garrow  did  not  want  to  hear  any  explanation,  and  thought  it  a 
very  good  penalty,  and  that  society  would  go  to  pieces  if  such 
penalties  were  taken  away  ; and  he  opposed  the  Bill.  It  was 
thrown  out  in  the  session  of  1813,  but  passed  the  next  year,1  so 
far  as  it  extended  to  removing  corruption  of  blood  for  attainder, 
except  in  cases  of  treason,  petit-treason,  and  other  murders.  By 
a subsequent  relaxation  of  the  law  (3  & 4 Wm.  IV.  c.  106,310), 
the  descendants  of  an  attainted  person  may  derive  a title  through 
him  to  a remoter  ancestor.  This  is  very  well ; but  it  remains  to 
be  hoped  that  the  nation  may  become  of  Blackstone’s  opinion,2 
that  u the  whole  doctrine  should  be  antiquated  by  one  undistin- 
guishing law.”  The  other  Bill,  for  abolishing  the  barbarous 
parts  of  the  sentence  for  high  treason,  had  actually  passed  through 
Committee  on  the  9th  of  April,  1813,  when  a motion  was  made 
and  carried  that  the  Bill  should  be  read  that  day  six  months  ; 
“so  that,”  as  Romilly  wrote  at  the  time,3  “the  Bill  is  lost,  and 
the  Ministers  have  the  glory  of  having  preserved  the  British 
law,  by  which  it  is  ordained  that  the  heart  and  the  High  treason 
bowels  of  a man  convicted  of  treason  shall  be  torn  sentence. 
out  of  his  body  while  he  is  yet  alive.”  It  is  scarcely  credible 
that  legislators  should  have  stood  up,  in  our  day,  night  after 
night,  discussing  and  advocating  the  provisions  for  cutting  off 
heads,  dividing  the  trunk,  and  leaving  or  not  leaving  suscep- 
tibility of  pain  when  the  heart  was  to  be  searched  for.  And  it 
was  not  to  be  the  last  debate.  The  whole  disgusting  matter  must 
be  gone  over  again  the  next  year.  The  next  year,4  Lord 
Ellenborough  stealthily  got  the  Bill  altered  in  the  Lords  — - 
quietly  amended  without  debate  — in  order  to  preserve  some- 

1 Political  Dictionary,  i.  p.  218.  2 Commentaries,  ii.  pp.  254-,  258;  iv.  p.  389. 

3 Memoirs,  iii.  p.  100.  4 Ibid.  pp.  147,  148. 


408 


THE  EAST  INDIA  COMPANY. 


[Book  II 


thing  of  the  barbarism  which  they  were  always  unwilling  to  part 
with.  The  Commons  had  abrogated  all  the  barbarism  except  the 
putting  to  death.  The  Lords  actually  reenacted  the  quartering 
after  death.  In  this,  they  were  hardly  so  antiquarian  as  they 
should  have  been.  They  should  have  remembered  the  origin  of 
the  sentence,1  in  the  time  of  Edward  I.,  and  in  the  case  of  Prince 
David  of  Wales.  Each  part  of  the  infliction  was  then  a separate 
sentence,  assigned  as  a consequence  of  a separate  offence,  duly 
specified.  If  these  lords  were  uncongenial  with  their  own  age 
in  providing  for  the  cutting  up  of  a warm  human  body  before  the 
eyes  of  a multitude,  they  were  no  less  inconsistent  in  their  char- 
acter of  legislators  of  the  age  of  Edward  I.  We  find  in  Romilly’s 
Diary  2 a characteristic  note  of  Lord  Eldon’s  of  this  date,  which 
shows,  more  clearly  than  any  description  could  do,  the  mode  in 
which  his  mind  worked,  on  such  occasions  as  this ; and  also  the 
empirical  treatment  to  which  legislation  of  the  most  serious  kind 
has  been  subjected  in  our  day.  One  paragraph  of  the  note  is 
this  : “ I entertain  a doubt  whether  the  sentence  should  be  further 
changed  than  merely  taking  away  the  cutting  down  alive  and 
drawing,  without  a hurdle.  The  King  can  pardon  the  quartering  ; 
and  if  he  does  not,  the  sentence,  if  the  party  is  hanged  till  he  is 
dead,  is  not  more  severe  than  in  murder.”  Romilly  expressed 
his  disgust  at  the  retention  of  part  of  the  butchery;  pointed  out 
that  if  it  were  to  be  always  excused,  the  provision  should  not 
stand  as  part  of  the  law  ; and  if  not  excused,  that  it  was  morally 
pernicious  in  the  highest  degree  : but  he  accepted  the  amend- 
ments, rather  than  lose  the  Bill.  It  passed  in  July,  1814. 

In  1813,  the  India  Company’s  Charter  had  to  be  renewed,  and 
Renewal  of  the  Company  found  it  less  easy  to  obtain  their  own 
india^Com  terms  than  in  a former  century.  It  so  happened,  that, 
pany’s  somewhere  about  1808,  a Liverpool  merchant,  the 

charter.  most  honored  of  his  class,  Mr.  William  Rathbone,  was 

in  London,  and,  struck  with  the  spectacle  of  the  Company’s  ship- 
ping, he  inquired  of  a London  merchant  at  his  elbow,  why  such 
a trade  — a trade  so  great,  and  capable  of  such  unlimited  expan- 
sion — was  quietly  left  to  be  the  property  of  a corporation.  His 
friend  replied  by  convincing  him  of  the  overwhelming  power  of 
the  corporation  in  London,  under  whose  shadow  no  discontent 
could  stir  witli  impunity  ; and  the  two  agreed  that,  whenever  any 
movement  was  made,  it  must  be  in  the  provinces.  Mr.  Rathbone 
was  not  a man  to  loiter  over  any  work  which  he  saw  ought  to  be 
done.  He  stirred  up  Liverpool,  Glasgow,  Paisley,  and  Man- 
chester, to  demand  an  opening  of  the  trade  ; and  by  the  time  the 
Charter  was  to  be  renewed,  the  movement  had  proceeded  so  far 
that  a considerable  relaxation  of  the  monopoly  was  easily  ob- 
1 Hemingford  and  followers.  2 Memoirs,  ii.  p.  148. 


Chap.  VIII.] 


THE  CHURCH  IN  INDIA. 


409 


tained.  From  this  time  forward,  British  merchants  were  per- 
mitted to  trade  to  the  territories  of  the  Company,  and  to  India 
generally  ; 1 though  none  but  the  Company  might  traffic  with 
China.  Henceforth,  the  Company  were  to  keep  their  territorial 
and  commercial  accounts  separate.  They  protested  that  all  this 
was  very  foolish  ; 2 they  could  prove  that  they  had  carried  com- 
merce to  its  furthest  possible  limit  in  that  quarter  of  the  world ; 
their  warehouses  were  glutted  with  Indian  commodities  for  which 
there  was  no  sale ; the  Company  suffered  loss  in  their  exports ; 
to  open  the  outports  to  the  trade  would  be  no  other  than  “ a ruin- 
ous transfer  of  it  into  new  channels,  to  the  destruction  of  immense 
and  costly  establishments,  and  the  beggary  of  many  thousands  of 
industrious  individuals.”  So  said  the  Company.  The  merchants, 
however,  desired  to  try  what  private  enterprise  could  do.  They 
were  authorized  to  try,  to  the  extent  just  mentioned  ; with  what 
result  will  appear  when  we  have  to  speak  of  the  next  renewal  of 
the  Company’s  charter,  in  1833.  The  trade  was  opened  on  the 
10th  of  April,  1814. 

The  opportunity  was  used  for  establishing  Episcopacy  in  India. 
Th  ere  had  been  devoted  Missionaries  there,  in  honor- 
able succession  ; but  we  learn  from  Wilberforce 3 that  meat  <if  the 
there  was  little  concert,  and  much  difference  among  ^urch  in 
them.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  in  the  religious 
world  a most  unphilosophical  ignorance  prevailed  as  to  the  im- 
pediments in  the  way  of  conversion  of  both  Mohammedans  and 
Hindoos.  Thus,  little  or  nothing  was  done,  while  some  valuable 
lives  were  sacrificed.  At  this  time,  the  news  had  just  arrived  of 
the  death  — the  most  dreary  death  — ■ in  Persia,  of  the  devoted 
Henry  Martyn.  “ The  great  mass  of  Anglo-Indians  ” were  con- 
fident that  the  propagation  of  Christianity  in  India  would  be  the 
overthrow  of  British  dominion  there ; and  their  opposition  to  mis- 
sionary effort  was  what  might  be  expected  from  such  a convic- 
tion. On  the  other  hand,  the  religious  world  never  admitted  a 
doubt  of  our  being  able  to  Christianize  all  India,  if  we  only  tried  ; 
and  of  course,  it  was  a heavy  weight  upon  their  minds  that  we 
did  not  try,  but  left  the  souls  of  a hundred  millions  of  heathens 
to  perish.  Wilberforce  declares,  repeatedly,  the  recognition  of 
Christian  teaching  in  India  to  be  “ the  greatest  object  man  ever 
pursued,”  — “ the  greatest  that  ever  interested  the  heart,  or  en- 
gaged the  efforts,  of  man.”  The  result  of  a long  and  hard  con- 
test in  both  Houses  of  parliament,  and  of  much  religious  excite- 
ment throughout  the  kingdom,  was  that  a Resolution  (the  13th) 
was  passed  in  regard  to  the  affairs  of  the  India  Company,4  that 
sufficient  facilities  should  be  afforded  by  law  for  the  admission  of 

i Political  Dictionary,  i.  p.  795.  2-  Resolutions  of  Court,  Jan.  26, 1813. 

3 Life,  iv.  p.  101.  4 Hansard,  xxvi.  p 562. 


410 


EDUCATION  IN  ENGLAND. 


[Book  II. 


moral  and  religious  teachers  in  India,  respect  being  had  to  the 
existing  guarantees  for  religions  liberty  on  every  hand  ; and  that 
by  another  Resolution  (the  12th)  a Bishop  and  two  archdeacons 
were  to  be  sent  out,  to  preside  over  the  Church  in  India.  This 
last  measure  was  for  the  benefit,  primarily,  of  the  British  in  In- 
dia ; as  the  other  was  for  the  natives.  Hitherto,  there  had  been 
only  three  Christian  churches  open  in  the  whole  realm  of  India, 
and  the  Bishop  of  London  had  been  the  Diocesan  of  this  depen- 
dency, as  of  so  many  colonies  in  all  parts  of  the  world.  In  1814, 
there  was  a Bishop  of  Calcutta,  with  a salary  of  £5000  a year ; 
and  in  ten  years  more,  the  beloved  Heber  went  forth,  watched 
by  the  loving  eyes  of  a multitude,  to  that  great  new  world  of 
pastoral  duty.  He  lived  less  than  three  years  ; but  his  image  is 
the  one  that  rises  in  the  heart,  at  any  mention  of  the  Establish- 
ment of  Christianity  in  India. 

While  this  anxiety  was  shown  about  India,  not  a word  was 
spoken  in  parliament  about  enlightening  the  heathens 
Education.  home.  Since  1807,  when  Mr.  Whitbread  pleaded  for 
Education,  and  Mr.  Windham  deprecated  it,  the  subject  had  not 
been  mentioned  at  all.  There  was  some  stir  in  society.  In  1808, 
it  had  been  found  that  Joseph  Lancaster  could  not  carry  on  his 
plans,  from  pecuniary  embarrassment ; and  five  generous  men 
subscribed  largely,  and,  as  trustees,  lifted  up  the  man  and  his 
work  out  of  difficulty,  and  into  a fair  field  for  the  trial  of  his 
scheme.  In  1812,  we  find  notices  of  attempts  to  open  the  Na- 
tional Schools  to  Dissenters,  for  whom  nothing  more  was  asked 
than  that  they  should  be  permitted  to  attend  their  own  places  of 
worship.  Such  license  was,  however,  declared  to  be  incompati- 
ble with  the  principle  of  the  society.  In  none  of  the  schools  of 
that  time  — neither  the  Lancaster,  nor  the  National,  nor  the  In- 
fant, nor  the  Adult  Schools  — was  the  quality  of  the  instruction 
given  such  as  could  be  approved  at  the  present  day.  We  have 
nothing  to  boast  of  yet ; but  we  have  become  aware  that  it  is  a 
very  questionable  benefit  to  seclude  children  from  the  active  busi- 
ness of  life  — to  cut  them  off  for  five,  seven,  or  ten  years  from 
learning  the  craft  they  are  to  live  by,  if  we  give  them  nothing  in 
return  but  such  a miserable  pretence  of  learning  as  was  furnished 
by  popular  schools  in  the  early  years  of  the  century.  It  was  rare 
to  find  a boy  of  fourteen,  coming  out  of  any  of  these  schools,  who 
could  read  pleasantly  and  intelligently,  and  write  a letter  freely, 
or  keep  accounts,  while  he  was  too  probably  sick  of  the  Bible 
from  its  having  been  made  a class-book.  His  father  naturally 
thought  that  he  would  have  been  better  employed  in  the  fields  or 
the  workshop.  It  was  difficult  to  find  a girl  who  could  do  any- 
thing but  spell  and  scrawl,  under  the  name  of  reading  and  writ- 
ing, and  sew  in  the  most  ordinary  manner ; and  her  mother  nat- 


Chap.  VIII.] 


BIBLE  SOCIETIES. 


411 


urally  thought  that  her  years  would  have  been  better  spent  in 
the  dairy  or  the  kitchen,  or  in  learning  to  tend  the  children. 
The  intellects  of  the  scholars  were  not  brightened  ; nor  was  any- 
thing like  sound  knowledge  given  them.  The  real  aim  of  edu- 
cation was,  in  fact,  not  yet  understood,  nor  the  process  philosoph- 
ically considered.  The  Adult  schools  which  were  set  up  about 
this  time  were  a curious  illustration  of  this.  It  was  an  excellent 
thing  to  let  uninstructed  adults  feel  that  knowledge  was  for  them 
as  for  others,  and  to  encourage  them  to  meet  in  the  evenings  for 
purposes  of  improvement ; but  it  seems  to  us  now  a strange  mis- 
take to  have  spent  their  precious  hours  on  the  alphabet  and  pot- 
hooks. With  their  unused  faculties  relating  to  arbitrary  signs, 
with  their  stiff  fingers,  and  years  so  long  past  the  time  for  per- 
ception and  retention,  it  was  found  weary  work  to  them  to  learn 
reading  and  writing ; and  so  slow  that,  in  the  same  time,  they 
might  have  obtained  and  heartily  enjoyed  a considerable  amount 
of  more  animating  knowledge.  The  amiable  and  earnest  Wil- 
berforce  was  one  of  the  leaders  in  this  well-meant  scheme.  He 
opened  a room,  and  established  teachers,1  and  himself  compli- 
mented the  pupils  on  their  good  sense  in  coming.  “ You  would 
have  been  delighted,”  wrote  an  observer,  “ with  seeing  him  seated 
by  the  old  ladies,  with  the  utmost  patience,  kindness,  and  humility, 
fairly  teaching  them  their  letters.”  It  was  much  to  have  called 
out  the  spirit  and  the  example : better  methods  were  yet  to  come. 

In  1813,  the  activity  of  Bible  Societies  was  at  its  height.  It 
is  now  interesting  to  look  back  upon,  as  a clear  evi-  Bible  So- 
dence  of  the  growing  sense  of  the  popular  needs.  To  cieties- 
a certain  extent,  also,  this  broadcast  sowing  of  the  Word  was  a 
blessing.  The  blessing  was  obvious ; the  objections  lay  more  out 
of  sight.  There  were,  however,  many  at  the  time,  and  there 
have  been  more  since,  who  asked,  whether  it  was  not  a large 
thing  to  take  for  granted  that  the  hundreds  of  thousands  to  whom 
the  Bible  was  given  could  read  and  use  it ; and  whether  it  was 
a fitting  gift,  in  the  way  of  charity,  to  so  very  large  a number  as 
were  supposed  to  need  such  a charity.  There  could  be  no  doubt 
of  the  benefit  of  rendering  the  Book  accessible  to  all  who  desired 
to  have  it ; but  there  was  much  more  question  of  the  piety  and 
wisdom  of  thrusting  it  upon  those  who  were  unprepared  for  its 
use.  The  objections  became  stronger  when  the  foreign  depart- 
ment of  the  business  was  brought  forward,  and  it  appeared  that 
we  were  throwing  the  Scriptures  into  the  laps  of  heathen  na- 
tions, with  no  appreciable  chance  of  making  them  Christians, 
and  a certainty  of  shockingly  desecrating  Christianity  if  we  did 
not.  There  is  no  need  to  go  into  the  painful  details  of  the  ab- 
surd mistakes  made  on  the  most  solemn  subjects,  in  our  eager- 
1 Life,  iv.  p.  219. 


412 


JOANNA  SOUTHCOTE. 


[Book  IL 


ness  to  put  our  sacred  books  before  the  minds  of  nations  oc- 
cupied with  sacred  books  of  their  own  ; nor  of  the  bad  effects 
at  home  of  making  the  most  peculiar,  difficult,  and  vast  of  all 
books,  a sort  of  waste  commodity  among  a multitude,  who  were 
compelled  to  receive  it  without  knowing  how  to  use  it.  Cole- 
ridge’s remark  on  the  matter  is  well  known.  Seeing  how  the 
Bible  was  regarded,  even  by  the  educated  classes,  as  the  revela- 
tion itself,  and  not  as  the  record  of  the  revelation  ; and  how, 
therefore,  the  tendency  of  the  time  was  to  make  it  be  considered 
a talisman,  and  to  cause  its  diffusion  as  a talisman,  among  the 
whole  people,  in  all  conditions  of  mind,  Coleridge  observed  that 
we  had  quitted  Idolatry,  but  had  fallen  into  Bibliolatry.  Amidst 
all  the  Bible  Society  zeal  of  1813,  we  find  writers  calm  enough 
to  object  to  any  spiritual  objects  being  adopted  as  one  of  the 
64  rages  ” which  are  always  succeeding  each  other  in  every  me- 
tropolis. In  this  instance,  the  rage  spread  from  London  all  over 
the  country.  By  the  end  of  the  year,1  there  was  scarcely  a town 
or  village  in  England  which  had  not  some  sort  of  Bible  Society ; 
and,  in  all  the  principal  towns,  annual  meetings  were  held,  for 
some  years  from  this  time,  at  which  the  most  popular  religious 
orators  appeared  — making  a sort  of  festival  for  the  religious 
world  of  each  district. 

At  this  time  a sect  was  rising  up  — already  considerable  in 
Joanna  numbers  — which  proved  that  mere  Bible-reading 
Southcote.  J0es  not  gjve  religious  enlightenment  to  the  otherwise 
ignorant.  An  aged  woman  was,  in  1813,  attending  a chapel  in 
St.  George’s  Fields,  which  was  always  crowded  with  people  eager 
to  see  her.  Joanna  Southcote  was  regarded  as  a prophetess ; 
and  she  now,  when  on  the  very  confines  of  life,  declared  herself 
pregnant  with  the  true  Messiqh.  She  was,  in  fact,  diseased  in 
body,  and  ignorant  (though  full  of  texts)  and  superstitious  enough 
to  he  able  to  deceive  herself  as  much  as  others.  It  was  a sore 
mystery,  she  said  with  bitter  tears,  to  the  disciples  round  her 
dying  bed,  when  telling  them  that  her  mission  now  seemed  all  a 
delusion ; it  was  a sore  mystery  that  she,  who  had  been  reading 
the  Bible  all  her  life,  should  have  had  such  a heavy  burden  as 
this  laid  upon  her.  In  the  summer  of  1814,  there  were  some 
thousands  of  persons  2 — above  500  in  Birmingham  alone  — 
looking  for  the  appearance  of  the  Messiah  ; and  the  more  their 
suspense  was  protracted,  the  stronger  grew  their  faith.  At  the 
close  of  the  year,  the  poor  woman  died  ; but  her  followers  had 
no  idea  of  giving  up.  44  The  arm  of  the  Lord  was  not  shortened, 
that  he  could  not  save;”  lie  would  yet  raise  her  up,  and  give 
her  the  promised  son.  The  case  would  hardly  be  worth  more 
than  a passing  allusion,  but  for  the  fact  that  the  faith  and  the  sect 
i Annual  Register,  1813,  p.  102  2 Ibid.  1814.  Chron.  p.  76. 


Chap.  VIII.] 


A NEW  PLAN  OF  FINANCE. 


413 


are  not  extinct  yet  — at  a distance  of  nearly  forty  years.  There 
are  still  followers  of  Joanna  Southcote,  meeting  for  worship  in  a 
town  here  and  there  ; and  their  interpretation  of  the  Scriptures, 
to  support  their  own  case,  is  an  outstanding  appeal  for  the  pro- 
motion of  popular  education.  It  is  not  necessary  for  this  that 
Joanna’s  followers  should  all  have  been  poor  people.  It  is  true 
that  the  gorgeous  cradle,  in  which  the  Messiah  was  to  be  rocked, 
was  given  by  “ a lady  of  fortune  ; ” and  that  the  silver  cup  and 
salver,  with  the  globe  and  the  dove,  were  presented  by  middle- 
class  contributors  ; and  that  a London  physican  sat,  as  a believer, 
by  the  bedside  of  the  prophetess : but  the  bulk  of  the  sect  were 
poor  ; and  the  whole  may  he  pronounced  ignorant. 

In  1813,  Mr.  Vansittart  announced  a new  plan  of  Finance,  and 
carried  his  proposal,  in  the  teeth  of  the  opposition  of  every 
economist  in  parliament.  The  subject  of  the  Debt  will  recur 
where  it  must  be  more  fully  treated  of  than  is  necessary  here  ; 
and  it  need  only  be  said  now  that,  in  1813,  the  nation  paid  taxes 
to  the  amount  of  176,346,023/. ; and  yet,  that  Mr.  Vansittart 
believed  our  financial  affairs  to  be  so  flourishing  that  he  was 
growing  uneasy  about  the  vast  power  that  would  be  in  the  hands 
of  Parliament  whenever  the  Sinking  Fund  should  have  nearly 
paid  off  the  Debt.  He  now  proposed  to  tamper  with  that  fund ; 
and  could  not  see  that  to  divert  it  from  its  purpose  was  to  break 
faith  with  the  national  creditor.  We  find  him  telling  parliament 
that  the  Sinking  Fund  has  already  redeemed  240,000,000/.  — 
the  whole  amount  of  the  Debt  at  the  time  of  its  institution  ; 
whereas,  every  financier  now  knows  that  the  Debt  was,  at  this 
date,  heavier  by  11, 000, 000/. 1 than  if  no  Sinking  Fund  had  been 
instituted.  Since  the  Peace  of  Amiens,  420,000,000/.  had  been 
added  to  the  capital  of  the  Debt.  The  true  method  of  redemp- 
tion, by  means  of  Terminable  Annuities,  had,  by  this  time,  been 
entered  upon.  It  began  in  1808  ; but  it  was  not  on  this  that 
Mr.  Vansittart  built  his  hopes  and  expectations.  After  provid- 
ing for  paying  a debt  on  one  hand  by  borrowing  at  higher  inter- 
est on  the  other,  he  now  proposed  to  alter  and  amend  the  Acts 
relating  to  the  reduction  of  the  Debt,  admitting  thereby  the  con- 
trol of  parliament  over  funds  excluded  by  those  Acts  from  parlia- 
mentary interference.  The  fallacy  of  the  Sinking  Fund  system, 
as  then  managed,  was  not  apparent  to  the  nation  during  the  war 
— so  completely  was  its  operation  hidden  by  the  process  of 
raising  annual  loans,  to  cover  deficiencies.  At  the  close  of  the 
war,  when,  in  the  absence  of  loans,  Parliament  borrowed  from 
the  Sinking  Fund  Commissioners,  year  after  year,  people  began 
to  perceive  how  delusive  had  been  the  notion  that  the  Debt  had 
ever  diminished  at  all ; and,  as  we  shall  see,  the  mischievous  child’s 
1 Political  Dictionary,  ii.  p.  404. 


STOCK  EXCHANGE  FRAUD. 


[Book  II. 


414 

play  came  to  an  end.  By  that  time,  men  were  wondering  how 
Mr.  Vansittart  could  have  obtained  his  majorities  in  1813.  Ilis 
doctrine  was,  simply,1  that  obedience  to  the  Acts  only  required 
that  the  Debt  should  be  payed  off*  in  forty-five  years  from  the 
institution  of  the  Sinking  Fund;  and  that  it  was  justifiable,  and 
would  be  now  prudent,  to  take  whatever  was  left  over  from  the 
sum  necessary  for  this,  and  apply  it  to  general  purposes,  to  save 
the  necessity  of  imposing  new  taxes.  It  cannot  be  necessary  to 
expose  the  fallacy  and  bad  faith  of  this  scheme  to  readeis 
who,  long  after  the  expiration  of  the  forty-five  years,  are  living 
under  a Debt  which  has  been  largely  increased  instead  of  abol- 
ished. 

In  February,  1814,  an  incident  occurred  which  appears  not  to 
stock  Ex-  have  been  explained  to  the  satisfaction  of  anybody, 
change  to  this  day.  A person,  dressed  in  a nondescript  offi- 
cer’s uniform,2  with  a long  beard,  wet  clothes,  and  an 
appearance  of  extreme  fatigue,  appeared  in  the  middle  of  the 
night  in  Dover,  declaring  that  he  had  just  landed  from  a boat, 
and  must  proceed  instantly  to  London,  to  announce  the  death  of 
Napoleon.  He  paid  his  way,  even  at  the  toll-bars,  with  Na- 
poleons. The  bustle  at  the  Stock  Exchange  was  just  what 
his  employers  intended  to  create.  A plot  of  the  same  sort  was 
prepared,  and  partly  enacted,  at  Northfleet,  in  case  of  the  mis- 
Lord  carriage  of  the  Dover  scheme.  Lord  Cochrane,  with 

Cochrane.  others,  was  tried  in  the  Court  of  King’s  Bench,  found 

guilty  of  being  one  of  the  authors  of  this  extraordinary  fraud, 
and  condemned  to  a year’s  imprisonment,  a fine  of  1000Z.,  and 
the  pillory.  Much  sympathy  was  naturally  felt,  from  the  outset, 
with  an  officer  who  had  served  his  country  bravely  and  effectu- 
ally ; and  when  the  evidence  against  him  on  the  trial  was  so 
strong  as  to  stagger  his  nearest  friends,  the  sympathy  was  kept 
up  by  the  injustice  of  the  procedure,  and  the  enormity  of  the 
sentence.  All  England  revolted  at  the  sentence  of  the  pil- 
lory for  such  an  offence,  though  England  had  not  yet  revolted 
at  the  pillory  in  all  cases.  That  part  of  the  sentence  was  not 
inflicted.  Lord  Cochrane  was  expelled 3 from  the  House  of 
Commons  by  a large  majority  ; but  immediately  reelected  for 
Westminster.  Some  of  the  electors,  we  are  assured,  believed 
him  innocent ; and  most  declared  him  to  have  been  unfairly  tried. 
He  was,  for  a quarter  of  a century,  stopped  in  his  professional 
career ; that  is,  he  served  with  a bravery  almost  eccentric,  and 
a genius  which  would  have  raised  him  to  the  summit  of  fame, 
but  for  the  drawback  of  this  transaction.  At  length,  he  received 
the  title  of  Lord  Dundonald,  and  was  held  to  have  emerged 

1 Hansard,  xxiv.  p.  1081.  2 Annual  Register,  1814.  Chron.  p.  18. 

8 Hansard,  xxviii.  p.  606. 


Chap.  VIII.]  EXTRAORDINARY  WEATHER.  4*5 

from  the  cloud  which  had  so  long  obscured  his  name  and  for- 
tunes. 

The  winter  of  1814  was  so  remarkable  in  regard  to  weather, 
that  some  of  the  facts  should  be  recorded.  The  sus-  Extraor_ 
pension  of  business,  and  even  of  the  mails,  was  ex-  dinary 
tremely  inconvenient.  Every  effort  was  made  to  for-  weather- 
ward  the  mails  — by  a chaise  and  four  here  — by  men  on 
horseback  there  ; but  for  several  weeks,  not  even  government 
could  be  sure  of  its  letters  on  the  right  day.  The  portreeve  or 
Tavistock  set  out,1  one  January  day,  to  take  the  oaths  of  his 
office  at  the  Quarter  Sessions,  only  thirty-two  miles  off ; but,  at 
the  end  of  twenty-one  miles,  he  w7as  stopped  by  snow  and  ice  ; 
and  there  he  was  detained  for  twenty-six  days,  unable  to  com- 
municate with  home,  or  any  other  place  than  the  village  in  which 
he  was  imprisoned.  Soldiers  were  frozen  to  death  on  the  road, 
in  their  march  from  town  to  town.  The  snow  drifted  in  the 
streets  to  such  a height  that  the  shops  were  closed ; and  the  ac- 
cumulation of  ice  and  snow  about  London  bridge  was  such  that 
the  passage  was  nearly  closed  by  the  middle  of  January.  By 
the  1st  of  February,  the  Thames  was  completely  frozen  over. 
A bullock  was  roasted  whole  on  the  ice ; booths  were  erected, 
and  a kind  of  fair  held,  where  the  citizens,  whose  business  was 
stopped,  amused  their  enforced  leisure.  This  stoppage  of  busi- 
ness was  by  this  time  so  serious  a matter  — and  chiefly  from  the 
failure  of  the  remittances  on  which  the  merchants  depended  for 
taking  up  their  bills  — that  all  the  powers  of  the  Post-Office 
were  put  forth  to  compel  the  overseers  of  parishes  and  surveyors 
of  highways  to  clear  the  roads.  Near  Huntingdon,  a strange 
sight  was  seen  when  several  days  had  elapsed  without  the  arrival 
of  any  mail.  An  official  personage  was  sent  down  from  the 
General  Post-Office,  with  orders  to  get  the  mails  to  and  from 
the  north  through,  at  all  hazards.  The  mail-coach  appeared  at 
length,  completely  filled  and  loaded  with  bags,  and  drawn  by  ten 
exhausted  horses,  which  had  forced  and  floundered  their  way 
through  banks  and  hills  of  snow.  It  was  a dreary  season 
for  many  a wife  and  mother,  whose  husband  did  not  return,  and 
could  not  be  heard  of.  The  children  must  be  kept  warm  and 
amused  at  home,  all  day  long ; and  they  had  not  even  the  diver- 
sion of  looking  out  of  the  windows;  for  the  snow  was  drifted 
against  them.  It  was  difficult  to  communicate  with  the  butcher; 
and,  as  for  coals,  if  the  stock  ran  low,  there  were  no  more  to  be 
had.  No  coals  could  get  to  London  ; and  there  was  no  passage 
by  any  of  the  rivers.  Where  there  was  an  attempt  to  hold  a 
market,  no  poultry  or  vegetables  were  to  be  seen  ; and  the  peo- 
ple could  not  endure  the  cold  — either  sellers  or  buyers.  The 
1 Annual  Register,  1814.  Chron.  p.  13. 


416 


NEW  CUSTOM-HOUSE. 


IBook  II. 


water-pipes  were  all  frozen  ; and  the  snow  was  melted  for  water 
— the  pails  of  thawing  snow  within  the  fenders  making  the 
house  insufferably  cold.  The  only  alternative  was  to  take  up 
the  plugs  in  the  streets  ; and  then,  if  the  water  came,  it  was 
immediately  transformed  into  dangerous  sheets  of  ice.  Amidst 
such  domestic  discomfort,  many  a mistress  of  a household  was 
left  for  weeks  uncertain  of  the  fate  of  her  husband  — if  he  hap- 
pened to  be  in  any  of  the  hilly  districts  of  the  island.  The 
Solway  was  frozen  over,  for  the  first  time  within  the  memory  of 
living  men.  Many  were  the  boats  and  coasting  vessels,  whose 
crews  were  kept  starving  and  shivering  out  at  sea,  from  the  heap- 
ing of  ice  about  the  shores.  On  land,  one  of  the  gravest  appre- 
hensions was  of  fire ; for  there  would  be  great  difficulty  in  put 
ting  it  out.  Several  bad  fires  did  happen  during  the  period  of 
frost ; but  a worse  occurred  just  after  water  was  once  more  seen 
in  the  Thames. 

In  the  Great  Fire  of  London,  the  Custom-House  was  one  of 
Burning  of  buildings  destroyed.  It  was  replaced  by  one 

the  Custom-  which  was  thought  very  grand  in  its  day  ; but  it  was 
found  to  be  inconveniently  small  in  the  beginning  of 
the  18th  century.  In  1718,  it  was  burned  down;  and  a much 
larger  one  was  erected  in  its  stead.  This  larger  one  was  found,  in 
its  turn,  too  small  for  the  increased  commerce  of  a century  ; and 
a new  one  had  been  planned,  during  late  years,  and  was  actually 
begun  when,  on  the  12th  of  February,  1814,  the  existing  Cus- 
tom-House was  burned  down  to  the  ground.1  The  building  it- 
self was  not  much  to  be  regretted  ; but  an  untold  amount  of 
property  perished  ; and,  worse  still,  papers  of  inestimable  value. 
The  coral  and  pearls,  the  silks,  the  books,  the  bank-notes,  the 
pictures,  were  a great  loss ; but  much  more  lamentable  was  the 
destruction  of  antique  documents,  relating  to  the  commerce  of  past 
centuries.  Bonds,  debentures,  and  securities  of  various  kinds, 
perished  to  such  an  amount  as  to  derange  ' he  transactions  of 
commerce,  and  threaten  the  resources  of  government  to  a for- 
midable extent.  Vessels  ready  to  clear  out  on  the  breaking  up 
of  the  ice  were  detained  ; one  merchant  lost  6000/.  worth  of 
bank-notes,  — the  list  of  their  numbers  being  locked  up  with 
them.  By  an  explosion  of  gunpowder  in  the  cellars,  bundles 
and  fragments  of  burnt  paper  were  scattered  on  the  roads  at 
New  Custom-  Dalston  and  Hackney  ; and  a packet  of  singed  deben- 
iiouse.  tures  was  picked  up  in  Spital  Square.  There  was 
now  every  inducement  to  press  forward  the  erection  of  the  new 
Custom-House.  The  first  stone  had  been  laid  by  Lord  Liver- 
pool in  the  preceding  October ; and  the  present  building  was 
opened  for  business  on  the  12th  of  May,  1817.  Many  people 
1 Annual  Register,  1814.  Chron.  p.  13. 


Chap.  VIII.] 


CENSURE  OF  ARCHITECT. 


417 


afterwards  thought  that  the  speed  had  been  too  great.  The  site 
— the  old  bed  of  the  river  — was  a difficult  one  for  such  a 
foundation  as  was  required.  Within  ten  years,  the  foundations 
of  the  Long  Room  gave  way.  Examination  of  the  facts  was 
made  by  a Parliamentary  Committee,  in  1828;  and  a severe 
censure  was  passed  upon  the  architect.  An  additional  expense 
of  above  170,000Z.  was  incurred;  and  the  cost  of  our  Custom- 
House,  of  the  present  century,  was  thereby  raised  to  nearly  half 
a million  sterling.  It  is  a matter  of  curious  speculation  how 
soon  it  will  be  outgrown  by  the  National  Commerce,  and  what 
will  become  of  it.  We  may  hope  that  warning  enough  has  been 
given  by  the  fate  of  its  three  predecessors ; and  that  it  will  not 
be  destroyed  by  fire. 


418 


RENEWED  EFFORTS  OF  NAPOLEON.  [Book  II. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A month  after  Napoleon’s  return  to  Paris,  the  remains  of  his 
Napoleon’s  great  “ Army  of  Russia  ” began  to  drop  in  after  him. 
renewed  It  was  a mere  fragment  that  retained  any  organiza- 
tion ; but  a considerable  number  of  soldiers  returned 
singly.  The  Emperor’s  addresses  were  more  boastful  than  ever. 
He  announced  that  the  British  had  failed  in  Spain,  and  that 
England  was  on  the  verge  of  destruction  from  civil,  as  well  as 
foreign,  war.  He  offered  his  sympathy  to  the  Americans,  in  their 
warfare  with  England,  and  assured  them  that  they  were  sup- 
ported by  the  enmity  of  all  Europe  against  their  foe.  It  was 
now  necessary  to  settle  many  affairs,  as  he  was  going  forth  to 
war  again.  He  dismissed  the  Pope  to  Avignon,  on  terms  which 
the  Pope  at  first  agreed  to,  but  afterwards  wished  to  retract ; but, 
having  once  dismissed  him,  Napoleon  had  no  time  to  attend  to 
the  Holy  Father’s  changes  of  mind.  Next,  he  appointed  a re- 
gency, in  case  of  accident  during  his  absence  from  Paris.  The 
Empress  was  to  be  Regent,  during  the  minority  of  their  son. 
Then,  prodigious  efforts  were  made  to  raise  men  and  money  for 
the  approaching  campaign.  As  taxation  could  be  carried  no  fur- 
ther, a sufficient  portion  of  the  property  of  the  Communes  was 
taken  by  the  government,  an  equivalent  amount  of  annual  income 
being  given  to  the  Communes  in  the  form  of  titles  to  dividends 
on  stock.  This  had  the  appearance  of  a desperate  measure ; 
and  so  had  the  method  of  raising  men ; and  Napoleon’s  ene- 
mies were  inspirited  accordingly.  It  was  not  only  that  the  con- 
scription for  1814  was  forestalled,  while  that  of  1813  was  hardly 
yet  in  operation  ; it  was  that  the  sons  of  the  nobles,  and  gentry, 
and  commercial  classes,  were  now  compelled  to  serve  in  person. 
Hitherto,  they  had  provided  substitutes  at  prodigious  cost  : now, 
they  must  serve  in  person.  There  was,  no  doubt,  a double  ob- 
ject in  this.  Napoleon  had  been  called  home  from  Russia  by  a 
conspiracy  in  Paris,  which  was  barely  prevented.  The  aristo- 
cratic youth  whom  he  was  now  to  take  with  him  into  the  field 
would  serve  as  hostages,  while  they  were  called  his  Guard  of 
Honor,  and  added  10,000  to  his  soldiery. 

Alexander  of  Russia  had  met  Bernadotte,  Prince  Royal  of 


Chap.  IX.J  AUSTRIAN  DECLARATION  OF  WAR. 


419 


Sweden,  (Napoleon’s  former  general,)  in  the  preceding  autumn ; 
and  they  had  made  an  alliance.  Now  the  King  Newcom_ 
of  Prussia  went  to  Breslau,  to  meet  Alexander,  and  pact  of 
made  an  alliance  with  him  also.  He  called  upon  his  allles 
subjects  to  rise  as  one  man,  to  throw  off  the  yoke  of  the  French 
despot.  Austria  talked  of  making  peace  between  the  foes  ; but, 
while  she  talked,  she  was  arming.  Hamburg  rose  ; the  Confed- 
eration of  the  Rhine  was  declared  to  be  dissolved ; and  the 
French  left  Dresden  and  Berlin. 

The  French,  however,  soon  entered  Dresden  and  Berlin  again. 
At  the  beginning  of  the  campaign,  Napoleon  was  victorious, 
though  at  the  cost  of  a prodigious  slaughter  of  his  hardly  raised 
troops.  The  battles  of  Lutzen  and  Bautzen,  which  gave  Napo- 
leon the  possession  of  Dresden,  were  fought  with  the  utmost  ob- 
stinacy on  the  part  of  the  Allies ; yet  they  were  de-  The  Allies 
feated,  and  compelled  to  retire.  Napoleon  appeared  defeated, 
to  be  unable  to  follow  up  his  victories  ; and  he  agreed  to  an 
armistice,  extending  from  the  5th  of  June  to  the  2 2d  of  July. 

This  armistice  was  proposed  by  Austria  — Austria  all  the 
while  intending  to  join  the  Allies,  and  knowing  that 
the  Allies  were  pledging  themselves  to  England  to  e' 

prosecute  the  war  with  vigor,  England  supplying  the  money.  It 
was  during  this  armistice,  while  Napoleon  was  appearing  to 
amuse  himself  at  Berlin  with  the  actors  he  had  sent  for  to  Paris, 
and  while  he  was  punishing  the  Hamburghers  for  their  late  ris- 
ing, that  Wellington  won  the  Battle  of  Vittoria.  The  Allies 
heard  how  the  French  were  driven,  pell-mell,  hungry  and  bare- 
foot, through  the  passes  of  the  Pyrenees  ; and  the  news  was 
cheering.  They,  and  their  enemy,  pretended  to  be  waiting  for 
a grand  conference,  to  be  conducted  by  Austria,  on  the  5th  of 
July,  to  arrange  terms  of  peace ; and  the  armistice  was  extended 
to  the  10th  of  August,  to  allow  abundance  of  time  for  debate. 

The  conference  did  not  begin  till  the  29th  of  July.  The  terms 
then  proposed  to  Napoleon  involved  more  sacrifice 
than  he  chose  to  make.  He  agreed  to  some  stipula-  Coilfeience- 
tions,  but  refused  others ; and  his  reply,  written  on  the  9th  of 
August,  did  not  reach  the  Allies  till  the  date  of  the  armistice 
was  past.  Austria  declared  it  now  too  late  to  enter  upon  any 
new  discussion,  unless  by  the  permission  of  Alexander.  The 
next  incident  was,  that  Austria  published  her  declara-  Austrian 
tion  of  war  ; and  Napoleon  found  that  he  had  been  declaration 
tricked  into  allowing  his  enemies  time  to  mature  their  ofwar* 
plans  against  him,  when  he  should  have  been  following  up  the 
successes  of  the  spring.  No  man  was  less  entitled  to  complain  of 
trickery ; and  this  makes  it  the  more  surprising  that  he  should 
have  allowed  himself  to  be  outwitted  by  the  crafty  Metternich 


420 


BATTLES  OF  DRESDEN  AND  CULM.  [Book  II. 


of  Austria,  the  double-minded  Frederick  William  of  Prussia, 
and  the  cunning  Alexander  of  Russia,  who  was  as  manoeuvring 
as  he  was  sentimental.  Bernadotte  had  come  down,  with  a 
great  force,  to  take  care  of  Berlin,  when  Napoleon  should  leave 
it.  Napoleon’s  old  general,  Moreau,  appeared  at  Alexander’s 
head-quarters,  on  the  side  of  the  Allies  ; and  Jomini,  the  head 
of  Ney’s  staff,  went  over  also,  carrying  full  information  of  the 
French  plans  of  the  campaign.  There  was  some  doubt  whether 
Murat  would  not  follow  Austria;  but  he  arrived  in  August  to 
aid  Napoleon.  In  a few  weeks,  Bavaria  joined  the  Allies ; and 
Saxony  was  compelled  to  shift  for  herself.  At  the  close  of  the 
campaign,  the  yet  undecided  German  States  turned  against  the 
falling  Emperor : and  before  the  end  of  the  year,  his  last  ally, 
Denmark,  made  a separate  armistice  ; and  he  was  left  quite 
alone.  Thus  it  was  on  the  Christmas-day  of  1813  ; though  on 
the  10th  of  August,  Napoleon  had  been  unquestionably  the  vic- 
tor in  the  campaign  of  the  preceding  months. 

As  the  truce  came  to  an  end,  the  Allies  defiled  back  into  Bo- 
hemia, in  order  to  form  a junction  with  the  Austrian  forces ; and 
Prince  Marshal  Bliicher,  the  great  Prussian  general,  was  bear- 
ing back  the  French  who  were  in  Silesia.  Napoleon  insisted, 
against  the  advice  of  his  generals,  on  carrying  his  main  force  in 
this  direction  ; and  Bliicher  of  course  retreated  before  him.  This 
was  what  the  Allies  intended  ; and  they  poured  down  upon  Sax- 
ony behind  him,  to  cut  off  his  communications : and  by  the  25th 
of  August,  1 20,000  men,  with  500  pieces  of  cannon,  were  on  the 
hills  round  Dresden.  If  they  had  made  the  attempt,  they  might 
have  occupied  Dresden  that  day : but  the  Austrian  commander 
desired  to  wait ; and  by  the  next  day,  Napoleon  was  within  sight. 
He  entered  Dresden  amidst  showers  of  balls,1  having  left  his 
carriage,  and  crept  on  his  hands  and  knees  over  the  most 
exposed  part  of  the  approach.  In  the  great  battle  of  the 
Battle  of  27th  (in  which  Moreau  received  his  death-wound) 
Dresden.  Napoleon  had  so  decidedly  the  advantage,  that  the 
Allies  resolved  to  retreat,  in  order  to  effect  a junction  with  Blu- 
cher’s  force  which  was  coming  on  from  Silesia.  Poor  Moreau 
wrote  to  his  wife  from  his  death-bed,  “ that  rascal  Bonaparte  is  al- 
ways fortunate.”  He  was  now,  however,  tasting  the  last  of  his 
good  fortune.  The  battle  of  Dresden  was  the  last  pitched  battle 
he  ever  gained.  Having  no  foresight  of  this,  he  was  in  the 
highest  spirits  on  the  28th,  when  he  advanced  up  the  river  to 
Pirna. 

On  the  30th,  his  general  Vandamme  was  totally  defeated,  not 
Culm  ^ar  ^rom  Culm,  and  taken  prisoner.  While 

the  struggle  was  going  forward  in  the  defiles  of  the 
1 Alison’s  History,  ix.  p.  449. 


Chap.  IX.] 


KATZBACH.  — DENNEWITZ. 


421 


Bohemian  mountains,  Napoleon  was  gayly  calculating  the  conse- 
quences of  victory  on  that  side,  and  how  long  it  would  require  to 
take  possession  of  Berlin.  “ Well,”  he  said,  after  hearing  the 
news,  “ this  is  war.  High  in  the  morning  ; low  enough  at  night.” 
It  was  a severe  blow  to  him,  that,  after  the  battle  of  Dresden, 
the  Allies  should  yet  enter  Prague  as  conquerors  ; and  he  ad- 
mitted afterwards  that  the  misfortune  was  owing  to  his  not  hav- 
ing supported  Yandamme  by  his  force  from  Pirna.  He  was  not 
yet  aware  that  his  force  in  Silesia,  under  Marshal  Macdonald, 
had  been  totally  routed  by  Blucher  on  the  26th.  In  the  battle 
of  the  Katzbach  and  the  consequent  proceedings,  the 
French  loss  amounted  to  25,000  men ; while  that  of  Katzbach- 
the  Allies  did  not  exceed  4000.  It  was  by  a surprise,  in  the 
midst  of  weather  which  destroyed  the  bridges  over  swollen  tor- 
rents, that  the  French  suffered  so  fearfully,  and  not  by  hard 
fighting.  There  had  been  a defeat  in  another  quarter,  at  a still 
earlier  date,  (the  23d,)  which  it  yet  remained  for  Napoleon  to 
hear  of ; and  it  cost  him  more  mortification  than  those  nearer  at 
hand,  though  it  was  not  in  reality  so  important.  It  was  a point 
of  pride  with  him  to  establish  himself  at  Berlin  ; and  it  was  a 
matter  of  pique  to  humble  Bernadotte  — his  old  servant,  who 
was  now  opposing  an  army  of  Swedes,  Prussians,  and  Russians, 
to  the  French  force  under  Oudinot  near  Berlin.  By  the  victory 
of  Bernadotte  and  his  allies  at  Gross-Beeren,  Oudinot  Gross- 
was  driven  back,  and  the  Prussian  capital  was  saved.  Beeren- 
Luckau  surrendered  to  the  Allies;  and  the  French  reinforce- 
ments, from  whom  much  had  been  hoped,  fled  back  into  Magde- 
burg for  refuge.  Thus  in  a single  week  — in  the  same  week  in 
which  he  gained  the  battle  of  Dresden  — Napoleon’s  armies  sus- 
tained three  tremendous  defeats  ; and  his  plans  for  the  campaign 
were  broken  up. 

It  was  hard  to  persuade  him  to  give  up  going  to  Berlin,  even 
now  ; but  Macdonald’s  army  was  in  so  desperate  a state  in  Sile- 
sia, and  Blucher  so  triumphant,  that  the  Emperor  consented  to 
take  again  the  road  to  Bautzen,  where  he  had  conquered  in  May. 
Blucher  again  retired ; and  while  Napoleon  followed,  Bernadotte 
and  his  Prussian  allies  beat  the  French  again,  under 
Marshal  Ney,  in  the  battle  of  Dennewitz.  Ney  had  Dennewitz- 
been  sent  to  replace  Oudinot  in  the  command  of  the  army  of  the 
Elbe  ; but  his  defeat  was  the  worse  of  the  two.  There  was  no 
hope  now  of  preserving  the  French  line,  from  Hamburg  to 
Dresden,  which  had  been  Napoleon’s  main  idea  in  this  autumn 
campaign.  He  immediately  resolved  to  draw  in  his  forces 
within  call  from  Dresden.  His  advisers  entreated  him  to  re- 
main within  that  range,  as  it  appeared  that  the  Allies  did  not 
strike  their  severest  blows  where  he  was  present ; but  we  find 


422 


CRISIS  IN  NAPOLEON’S  CAREER.  [Book  II. 


him,  so  late  as  the  7th  of  September,  still  planning  a triumphant 
entry  into  Berlin,  after  defeating  Bernadotte.  The  next  morn- 
ing, however,  the  sound  of  Russian  guns  told  him  that  he  was 
wanted  on  the  Bohemian  side.  He  pressed  back  the  Russians 
over  the  frontier,  but  did  not  engage  them  when  he  might  have 
done  so  with  advantage.  His  spirit  was  evidently  shaken.  His 
soldiers  showed  themselves  as  brave  as  ever ; but  he  had  lost 
30,000  of  them  in  three  weeks  ; and  a gloom  settled  down  on 
the  rest,  which  was  increased  by  every  symptom  of  indecision  on 
his  part. 

By  the  end  of  September  he  must  make  up  his  mind.  He 
Sufferings  and  army  must  go  somewhere,  for  Saxony  was  ex- 
ofthe  hausted.  No  more  food  for  men  or  horses  was  to  be 

had  ; and  the  Allies  were  daily  pouncing  on  convoys 
in  the  rear,  and  cutting  off  his  communications  there.  In  Dres- 
den, where  15,000  wounded  were  accumulated,  typhus  fever  broke 
out,  and  carried  off  hundreds  of  victims  in  a day.  By  the  Em- 
peror's order,1  the  mad-houses  were  taken  for  lodgings,  and  the 
insane  were  turned  into  the  streets  ; — a horrible  incident  of  the 
time.  In  six  weeks  from  the  end  of  the  truce,  the  French  force 
was  smaller  by  160,000  men.  The  Allies  had  lost  80,000  ; but 
they  were  reinforced  to  a greater  amount.  Their  troops  had 
room,  health,  food,  hope,  and  good  spirits. 

“ I will  not  go  out  again  ; I will  wait,”  Napoleon  said,  when 
Napoleon’s  he  returned  to  Dresden,  after  his  visit  to  the  Bohe- 
vaciiiation.  mjan  frontier ; and  in  that  nest  of  disease  and  misery 
he  did  wait,  to  see  what  opportunity  the  Allies  would  give  to 
attack  them  on  some  unguarded  part.  Meanwhile,  Blucher  and 
his  Prussians  were  already  gone  northwards,  had  crossed  the 
Elbe,  in  spite  of  Marmont,  and  were  now  joining  Bernadotte. 
When  the  grand  army  of  the  Allies,  hitherto  south  of  him,  was 
marching  westwards,  it  was  clear  that  the  intention  was  to  hem 
him  in.  Dresden  was  no  place  for  him  now,  he  said.  His  new 
line  must  be  from  Erfurth  to  Magdeburg.  He  could  do  nothing 
with  Dresden,  or  from  it.  So  he  thought  one  night ; but  the 
next  morning,  he  had  changed  his  mind,  and  ordered  that  the 
city  should  be  held  to  the  last  extremity,  while  he  went  out 
against  Bernadotte,  and  to  enter  Berlin.  He  could  not  give  up 
this  hope,  though  now  it  had  become  foolish.  As  his  soldiers 
left  Saxony,  they  were  to  carry  off  all  the  cattle,  burn  the  woods, 
and  cut  down  the  fruit-trees  ; — these  fruit-trees  and  cattle  being 
the  property  of  his  only  ally.  The  enemy,  however,  coming  up 
wherever  he  retreated,  saved  the  fruit-trees  and  the  inestimable 
woods. 

The  crisis  was  now  at  hand.  When  Napoleon  had  made  up 
1 Alison’s  History,  iX.  p.  540. 


FIRST  BATTLE  OF  LEIPSIC. 


Chap.  IX.] 


423 


his  mind  to  occupy  the  yet  untouched  country  of  north  Ger- 
many, between  the  Elbe  and  the  Oder,  himself  win- 
tering at  Berlin,  his  Marshals  remonstrated,  in  a body,  sti»nce  of 
against  the  scheme.  They  had  found  themselves  un-  ^^Iar_ 
successful  against  the  Allies  whenever  he  was  not 
present ; and  they  apprehended  the  utter  destruction  of  his 
armies,  if  the  Allies  were  permitted  to  intercept  their  return 
to  France.  The  Marshals  desired  an  immediate  march  upon 
Leipsic.  The  argument  was  still  proceeding  when  the  news 
arrived  that  Bavaria  had  joined  the  Allies;  and  this  event 
settled  the  matter.  The  Emperor  had  been  aware  that  it  was  to 
happen  ; but  his  Generals  had  not;  and  he  could  no  longer  hold 
out  against  their  remonstrances.  He  ordered  a retreat 
to  Leipsic,  well  knowing  that  a critical  battle  must  be  e rea  ’ 
fought  on  the  way  back  to  France,  and  that  defeat  would  be 
fatal  to  his  fortunes.  He  had  to  fight  his  way  through  250,000 
of  the  enemy,  without  magazines,  and  leaving  behind,  or  on  the 
Elbe,  his  reserve  artillery,  and  his  garrisons  in  the  strong  places 
which  he  still  held.  He  arrived  at  Leipsic  on  the  loth  of  Octo- 
ber. It  was  here  that  the  great  battle  was  to  be  fought.  The 
French  forces  were  concentrated,  and  placed  on  the  north  side  of 
the  city.  The  Allies  had  also  united  their  armies,  and  occupied 
the  ground  south  of  the  city  — Blucher’s  force  alone  holding  a 
position  on  the  north.  At  midnight  on  the  loth,  the  French 
were  quiet  before  their  watch-fires  ; and  they  saw  two  rockets 
sent  up  from  the  Austrian  General’s  quarters  in  the  south, 
answered  by  three  colored  ones  from  Blucher’s  station.  It  was 
a sign  that  all  was  ready.  At  daybreak,  a stirring  pro  tarnation 
was  read  at  the  head  of  every  regiment  of  the  Allied  army, 
while  Napoleon  did  not  address  his  soldiers  at  all.  His  soldiers 
had  ceased  to  trust  in  his  star ; and  this  singular  omission  made 
them  suppose  that  he  had  lost  confidence  too. 

The  first  battle  began  at  nine  in  the  morning  of  the  16th  of 
October,  and  for  some  time  went  well  for  the  Allies.  First  battle 
At  noon,  however,  Napoleon  nearly  succeeded  by  of  LeiPsic 
means  of  his  old  method  — a fierce  push  at  the  enemy’s  centre. 
It  was  under  the  guidance  of  his  own  old  soldier,  Jomini,  now 
at  Alexander’s  elbow,  that  he  was  baffled.  The  centre  was 
strengthened  by  Alexander’s  reserves ; and  the  Austrian  re- 
serves, which  had  been  placed  far  away  on  the  other  side  the 
river  Pleisse,  were  brought  up.  Napoleon  had  too  hastily  sent 
word  to  the  King  of  Saxony,  in  Leipsic,  that  the  day  was  his, 
and  desired  him  to  set  the  bells  ringing  for  the  victory.  By 
three  o’clock,  the  Austrian  reserves  were  on  the  ground  ; in  two 
hours,  the  French  could  with  difficulty  sustain  themselves  in  any 
quarter;  and  between  five  and  six,  Napoleon  made  his  last  des- 


424 


RETREAT  OF  NAPOLEON. 


[Book  II. 


perate  effort  — aware  that  by  the  next  day  100,000  fresh  troops 
would  have  come  up  against  him.  He  drove  a heavy  column, 
of  his  best  troops,  reformed,  against  a weak  point ; but,  after 
a transient  success,  he  was  repulsed  ; and  darkness  put  an  end 
to  the  contest.  If  he  had  been  the  aggressor,  and  on  the  ad- 
vance, Napoleon  might  have  made  light  of  the  issue  of  this  bat- 
tle. It  was  not,  in  itself,  a great  victory  gained  by  the  Allies. 
But  he  was  in  retreat ; and  not  to  conquer  was  to  be  ruined. 
He  did  not  at  once  admit  that  he  must  retreat.  He  endeavored 
first  to  open  secret  negotiations  with  his  father-in-law  of  Austria. 
By  means  of  an  Austrian  prisoner,  he  sent  to  the  camp  of  the 
two  Emperors  an  offer  to  retire  behind  the  Rhine  till  the  conclu- 
sion of  a general  peace,  if  they  would  now  agree  to  an  armistice. 

On  the  evening  of  the  17th,  no  answer  had  been  returned ; 
and  Napoleon  prepared  for  another  battle.  The  conflict  of  yes- 
terday had  been  less  decisive  than  either  party  had  expected. 
Second  bat-  That  of  to-morrow  must  be  an  affair  of  life  or  death 
tle*  to  the  French.  At  nine,  again,  the  battle  began  ; 

and  again  it  continued  till  night.  In  the  midst  of  the  conflict, 
the  Saxon  regiments,  cavalry  and  infantry,  with  all  their  artil- 
lery, went  over  to  the  Russians  ; and  the  Wirtemberg  horse  fol- 
lowed. Before  the  evening,  it  was  evident  that  the  French, 
overpowered  by  numbers,  could  not  hold  Leipsic ; and  night 
closed  on  their  retreat.  Bliicher  saw  from  a height  the  long 
trains  of  carriages  that  filled  the  highway  to  France.  Napoleon 
and  his  Marshals  sat  down  to  confer  on  their  position,  with  the 
fires  of  the  enemy  blazing  almost  all  round  them.  The  failure 
of  ammunition  decided  the  question  of  retreat  without  pause. 
Napoleon  was  so  worn  out,  that  he  dropped  asleep  in  his  chair. 
When  he  presently  awoke,  his  unguarded  words  were  very 
affecting  to  his  councillors:  “Am  I awake,”-  he  said,  gazing 
round  upon  them,  “ or  is  it  a dream  ? ” He  sent  a message  to 
the  King  of  Saxony,  desiring  him  to  do  the  best  he  could  for 
himself,  as  the  French  must  return  home.  Napoleon  then  en- 
tered the  city,  sat  up  till  daylight,  making  his  arrangements  ; 
and  by  that  time  his  army  was  in  full  retreat.  At  ten  o’clock, 
he  bade  farewell  to  the  old  King  and  Queen ; and  was  imme- 
diately after  so  nearly  taken  prisoner,  that  he  escaped  only  by 
being  shown  a back  door  which  opened  from  a garden  upon  the 
river.  The  only  bridge  in  possession  of  the  French  was  blown 
up  too  soon ; and  twenty-two  generals,  15,000  soldiers,  and  all 
the  sick  and  wounded,  were  made  prisoners  by  the  Allies.  By 
two  o’clock,  all  firing  had  ceased.  The  losses  on  both  sides  were 
enormous  ; but  the  war  was  supposed  to  be  concluded.  On  the 
19th,  the  Allied  Sovereigns  entered  Leipsic  by  different  gates, 
and  met  in  the  great  square.  The  bells  of  the  city  rang ; the 


Chap.  IX.]  INDEPENDENCE  OF  HOLLAND. 


425 


people  cheered  ; and  their  terrible  sacrifices  were  forgotten  in 
the  belief  that  Europe  was  delivered  from  the  despotism  of  Na- 
poleon. 

He,  meanwhile,  was  wretched  enough.  After  his  escape,  he 
fell  asleep  in  a mill,  and  was  awakened  by  the  blow-  Retreat  of 
ing-up  of  the  bridge  which  cost  him  so  large  a portion  the  French, 
of  his  remaining  troops.  His  authority  was  gone.  His  soldiers 
did  not  wait  on  his  eye,  or  on  his  word,  but  broke  from  all  disci- 
pline. The  Germans  left  him  ; and  the  Allies  were  now  press- 
ing on  his  rear.  At  Erfurth,  Murat  rode  away,  — finding  him- 
self, on  the  sudden,  much  wanted  at  home.  Napoleon  suspected 
that  this  dubious  brother-in-law  was  in  correspondence  with 
Austria ; but  he  embraced  him  without  reproaches,  while  feeling 
that  they  would  probably  never  meet  again. 

One  more  engagement  took  place  before  he  reached  the  Rhine. 
The  Bavarians  endeavored  to  intercept  him  near  Frankfort ; and 
Marshal  Wrede  blocked  up  his  road  at  Hanau.  Napoleon  had 
his  Guard  with  him ; and  he  had  the  superiority  in  numbers. 
Yet  more,  he  and  his  army  were  spurred  on  by  despair.  They 
dispersed  the  enemy,  and  broke  through  to  the  Rhine,  Battle  of 
— thus  enjoying  a final  success,  though  a small  one.  Hanau- 
Napoleon  remained  six  days  at  Mayence,  to  collect  the  remains 
of  his  army,  and  then  turned  his  back  on  those  German  plains 
where  he  was  never  to  strike  another  blow.  On  the  9th  of  No- 
vember he  arrived  at  Paris.  Alexander  was  at  Frankfort  two 
days  before  Napoleon  left  Mayence  ; and  it  was  not  to  be  sup- 
posed that  the  conquerors  would  remain  on  the  German  side  of 
the  Rhine.  Winter  was  at  hand,  however ; and  there  must  be 
a pause.  The  armies  went  into  winter  quarters  on  the  opposite 
banks  of  the  Rhine. 

Napoleon  was  now,  as  has  been  said,  without  a single  ally. 
Finding  his  Senate  still  obsequious,  he  ventured  to  Napoleon 
say,  in  his  speech  to  the  Legislature,  on  the  19th  of  atParis- 
December,  that  his  great  victories  in  Germany  were  made  use- 
less by  the  defection  of  his  allies ; and  that,  but  for  the  fidelity 
and  concord  of  French  hearts  and  minds,  France  herself  would 
be  in  danger.  Finding  the  legislative  body  less  pliable  than  he 
expected,  more  disposed  for  peace,  and  more  aware  that  it  was 
he  who  hindered  peace,  he  suppressed  their  proceedings,  and 
rebuked  their  leaders  with  a tyranny  as  outrageous  as  in  his  best 
days.  At  the  moment  that  he  was  thus  acting,  the  Allies  were 
again  on  the  move. 

In  November,  on  the  24th,  the  Independence  of  Holland  was 
proclaimed,  the  House  of  Orange  being  recalled.  In  indepen- 
every  town  in  England,  the  people  were  spreading 
the  news  in  the  streets  that  “ the  Dutch  had  taken  proclaimed 


426 


PARTIAL  SUCCESS  OF  NAPOLEON.  [Book  II. 


Holland,'’  — a saying  which  was  puzzling  to  children  who 
were  learning  geography  at  school.  On  the  21st  of  Decem- 
ber the  Austrians  crossed  the  Rhine  at  Basle,  thus  entering 
The  Allies  Swiss  territory  ; and  on  the  last  day  of  the  year, 

cross  the  Bliicher  crossed  below  Coblentz.  The  constant  declar- 
ation of  the  Allies  was  that  they  came  up  against 
Napoleon,  and  not  against  F ranee,  whose  territory,  in  all  its 
length  and  breadth,  they  were  willing  to  secure  to  the  French 
nation. 

By  this  time,  Wellington  was  at  Bayonne  ; and  Ferdinand 
was  about  to  return  to  Spain.  The  Allies  now  advanced  to 
Lyons,  and  encamped  in  the  basins  of  the  Meuse  and  the  Seine. 
The  people  could  not  have  opposed  them,  if  they  would,  for  it 
was  not  Napoleon’s  way  to  allow  the  people  to  be  armed.1  Now, 
when  it  was  too  late,  the  government  newspapers  called  the 
people  to  arms  ; but  there  was  no  appearance  of  enthusiasm. 
The  Emperor  dared  not  arm  the  inhabitants  of  Paris,  “ the  men 
of  the  Revolution  ; ” and  he  allowed  nothing  better  than  pikes  to 
the  National  Guard,  whom  he  caused  to  be  organized,  though 
there  were  plenty  of  arms  in  the  arsenal.  All  this  time,  there 
Congress  at  was  talk  of  negotiation ; and  a congress  was  ap- 
CMtiiion.  pointed  to  meet  at  Chatillon-sur-Seine,  at  the  end  of 
January.  Its  proceedings  opened  on  the  5th  of  February;  but 
war  was  going  on  during  all  that  month.  Napoleon  threw  him- 
self between  two  bodies  of  the  invaders,  and  on  the  10th  wrote 
his  commands  that  his  Commissioners  at  Chatillon  should  “ sign 
nothing,”  as  he  was  about  to  strike  a great  blow.  He  had  by 
this  time  sustained  one  defeat,  and  gained  one  victory  ; and  the 
victory  had  put  his  soldiers  in  spirits.  On  the  evening  of  the 
17th  of  February,  the  Allies  actually  proposed  an  armistice  — so 
Partial  severely  had  they  been  beaten  in  detail,  owing  to  an 
success  of  imprudent  division  of  their  forces,  and  to  the  slowness 
Napoleon.  Qf  tpe  Austrians  in  their  advance  to  Paris.  The  Em- 
peror Francis  was  unwilling  to  pluck  Napoleon  from  his  throne, 
till  it  should  have  been  secured  for  his  son  ; and  Schwartzenberg 
was,  no  doubt,  under  orders  to  gain  time,  in  his  march  towards 
the  crisis.  Napoleon  now  entered  into  negotiation  with  Francis, 
and  presently  reoccupied  Troyes,  which  had  been  held  by  the 
Allies  for  some  time.  He  observed  gayly  that  he  was  now 
nearer  to  Vienna  than  the  Allies  were  to  Paris.  He  had,  how- 
ever, gained  his  last  victory.  The  last  was  that  of  Montereau, 
when  he  drove  his  enemies  back  beyond  the  Seine,  on  the  18th 
of  February.  Though  his  mood  could  be  gay,  it  was  now  oftener 
irritable  and  gloomy.  No  one  can  wonder  at  this  who  considers, 
not  only  the  depth  to  which  he  had  sunk  in  regard  to  military 
1 France  and  its  Revolutions,  p.  507. 


Chap.  IX.] 


TREATY  OF  CHAUMONT. 


427 


success,  but  the  work  which  lay  before  him,  if  able  to  prove 
himself  unconquerable  at  last.  Under  the  best  possible  circum- 
stances, the  task  of  raising  his  exhausted  empire  into  a condition 
of  strength  and  safety  was  enough  to  alarm  the  boldest.  And 
now,  though  he  was  driving  back  the  Allies,  they  were  on 
French  soil,  and  the  French  people  gave  no  help  in  expelling 
them.  It  is  no  wonder  that  he  grew  more  and  more  fretful  and 
exacting.  He  insulted  and  displaced  his  generals,  and  expected 
of  his  soldiers  more  than  their  worn-out  strength  could  possibly 
accomplish.  He  was,  in  fact,  under  the  last  paroxysms  of  hope 
and  fear,  after  a long  career  of  contempt  of  both. 

In  proportion  to  his  occasional  hope  was  the  fear  of  the  rest  of 
Europe.  In  the  homes  of  England,  people  began  to  say  to  each 
other  that  Napoleon  would  not  be  put  down,  after  all.  All  that 
immense  force  of  the  Allies  invading  him,  on  his  own  territory, 
was  clearly  unable  to  subdue  him.  After  all  the  rejoicings,  the 
illuminations,  the  display  of  the  French  eagles  in  Whitehall,  we 
might  still  be  at  war  all  the  rest  of  our  lives.  At  this  critical 
time,  the  representative  of  England  at  the  Congress  of  Chatillon, 
Lord  Castlereagh,  used  to  the  utmost  the  influence  of  his  govern- 
ment1 there  as  paymaster,  to  free  the  cause  of  the  Allies  from 
the  slowness  of  JBernadotte,  and  the  hesitation  of  Austria.  If 
Blucher  could  be  made  strong  enough  to  carry  on  his  work  in 
his  own  way,  all  might  presently  be  well.  This  was  done  ; and 
while  the  great  Austrian  army  still  retired,  Blucher,  well  rein- 
forced, pushed  on  down  the  Marne;  and,  by  the  27th,  Napoleon 
considered  the  danger  of  Paris  so  great  that  he  left  Troyes,  and 
made  haste  to  check  the  Prussians. 

Meantime,  the  Allies  were  entering  into  a negotiation  among 
themselves,  which  superseded  the  work  professing  to  Treaty  of 
be  done  at  Chatillon.  Instead  of  waiting  on  Napo-  Chaumont. 
Icon’s  changes  of  mind  and  vacillations  of  counsel  at  Chatillon, 
the  four  great  Powers  bound  themselves,  by  the  Treaty  of  Chau- 
mont,  on  the  1st  of  March,  to  hold  out  against  Napoleon,  if  he 
should  refuse  the  terms  offered  him.  Each  of  the  four  Powers 
was  to  keep  in  the  field  a force  of  150,000  men  ; and  Great 
Britain  was  to  maintain,  not  only  her  own  force,  but  those  of  the 
other  Powers,  by  an  annual  subsidy  of  5,000,000/.  There  were 
secret  articles,  which  afterwards  guided  the  counsels  of  the  po- 
tentates. The  published  articles  were  sad  news  in  England. 
Just  when  the  overthrow  of  Napoleon  had  seemed  inevitable,  it 
was  in  contemplation  to  raise  5,000,000/.  a year  of  war-tax,  be- 
sides maintaining  150,000  men  in  the  field.  For  three  weeks 
longer,  Napoleon  held  out,  through  his  Minister  at  Chatillon,  for 
his  stipulation  that  the  Rhine  should  be  the  frontier  of  France ; 

1 Alison’s  History,  x.  p.  186. 


428 


ENTRY  OF  THE  ALLIES  INTO  PARIS.  [Book  II. 


but,  as  he  had  gained  his  last  victory,  he  was  soon  obliged  to  yield 
Bourbon  ^at  P°int5  anc^  every  other.  By  this  time,  the  Royal- 

manifesta-  1st  party  was  up  and  stirring.  Of  the  Bourbon  Princes, 

one  was  at  Bordeaux,  and  another  was  with  the  Allied 
Army.  On  the  2d  of  March,  the  strong  town  of  Soissons  capit- 
ulated to  the  Prussians.  On  the  12th,  the  Bourbons  were 
acknowledged  at  Bordeaux.  On  the  19th,  Napoleon  accepted 
some  of  the  conditions  of  the  Allies,  but  demurred  to  others  — ■ 
being  yet  unaware  of  the  Treaty  of  Chaumont.  Not  doubting  that 
Paris  would  defend  itself,  Napoleon  proceeded  to  the  rear  of  the 
Allies,  to  gather  together  the  garrisons  of  his  strong  places  in  the 
east  of  France.  The  Allies  pressed  on,  driving  the  French 
Marshals  and  their  force  of  25,000  men  before  them ; and  when 
the  Empress,  her  child,  and  Court,  left  Paris  on  the  28th,  with 
The  Allies  their  money  and  baggage,  the  Emperor  of  Russia  and 

at  Paris.  King  of  Prussia  were  established  almost  within  sight. 

The  citizens  had  no  warning  till  the  country  people  came 
crowding  in  with  their  cattle,  and  whatever  they  could  bring  in 
carts.  Nothing  effectual  was  done  ; nor  was  there  any  need. 
The  citizens  had  nothing  to  fear  for  themselves.  The  Allies 
were  the  enemies  of  the  Emperor,  and  not  of  the  French 
people.  When  the  citizens  looked  out,  on  the  morning  of  the 
30th,  the  heights  which  command  Paris  were  crowded  with 
the  foreign  troops,  to  the  number  of  180,000  men.  On  that 
day,  Napoleon  left  his  army  in  the  eastern  provinces,  and 
travelled  with  all  speed  to  Paris ; but  the  last  conflict  did  not 
wait  for  him.  While  he  was  travelling,  his  Marshals,  Marmont 
and  Mortier,  were  fighting  outside  the  capital.  Joseph  showed 
himself  as  feeble  as  he  had  been  at  Yittoria  and  everywhere  else. 
He  did  not  arm  the  citizens  who  called  for  arms.  He  permitted 
no  man  to  cross  the  barriers  outwards,  while  as  many  as  chose 
Capitulation  might  come  in.  About  noon,  he  gave  leave  to  the 
of  Paris.  Marshals  to  capitulate.  When  the  Russian  balls 
knocked  at  the  gates,  and  the  cries  of  the  Cossacks  were  heard 
under  the  walls,  he  fled,  having,  to  the  last,  called  on  the  people 
of  Paris  to  defend  themselves.  To  the  last,  arms  were  refused 
to  the  citizens ; yet  the  Allies  found  in  Paris  30,000  new  mus- 
kets, above  120  pieces  of  cannon,  and  a vast  store  of  ammunition. 
The  Allies  lost  a great  number  of  men  in  the  battle  of  Paris, 
owing  to  the  character  of  the  ground,  which  was  favorable  for  de- 
fence ; but  it  was  the  final  struggle.  On  the  morning  of  the 
31st,  the  citizens  awoke  to  the  news  that  the  Marshals  were  to 
evacuate  the  city  that  day,  and  yield  it  up  to  the  Allies. 

The  troops  who  entered  first  were  so  quiet  that  the  shops  were 
Entry  of  presently  opened ; and,  about  noon,  the  Sovereigns 
the  Allies.  and  Princes  entered,  to  see  Paris  looking  very  like 


Chap.  IX.]  THE  PROVISIONAL  GOVERNMENT. 


429 


itself.  The  wildest  of  the  troops  were  kept  at  a distance,  and 
the  best  were  brought  into  the  city ; and  even  they  were  forbid- 
den to  go  beyond  certain  limits,  in  the  public  places.  Some 
Royalists  paraded  the  streets  with  a white  flag,  and  endeavored 
to  raise  a cry  for  the  Bourbons  ; but  the  people  did  not  seem  to 
understand  or  care  about  it ; and  when  the  Sovereigns  met  to 
prepare  their  proclamation,  and  declare  their  resolution  to  ac- 
cept and  guarantee  such  a constitution  and  government  as  the 
French  people  should  form  for  themselves,  the  Bourbons  were 
not  named.1  The  Allies  would  not  treat  with  any  member  of 
the  family  of  Bonaparte ; but  they  indicated  no  other  family. 
Prince  Schwartzenberg  had,  in  the  morning,  invited  the  people 
of  Paris  to  accelerate  the  peace  of  the  world  by  cooperating 
with  the  Allies ; and  the  Municipal  Council  of  the  capital  lost 
no  time  in  setting  about  the  business. 

On  the  1st  of  April,  they  put  forth  a proclamation  2 declaring 
“ We  abjure  all  obedience  to  the  usurper,  and  return  to  our  law- 
ful masters.”  The  next  day,  the  Opposition  minority  of  the 
Senate,  who  had  long  been  disaffected  to  Napoleon,  Provisional 
elected  a Provisional  Government,  and  declared  the  Government 
Bonaparte  family  excluded  from  the  throne,  and  the  elected* 
French  people  released  from  their  allegiance  to  Napoleon.  A 
sufficient  number  of  the  Legislative  Chamber  agreed  to  all  this  ; 
and,  on  the  same  day,  the  Provisional  Government  began  to  act. 
On  the  4th,  a decree  was  issued,  which  ordered  that  all  traces  of 
the  late  government — all  symbols  of  the  reign  of  Napoleon  — 
should  be  suppressed  and  effaced  by  police  agents  appointed  for 
the  purpose.  The  leader  in  these  proceedings  against  the  fallen 
Emperor  was  Talleyrand;  and  his  coadjutors  were  men  of  the 
same  sort,  — the  grossest  flatterers  of  Napoleon  in  his  days  of 
power,  and  the  coolest  traitors  when  his  power  began  to  evap- 
orate. 

When  Napoleon  arrived  at  Fontainebleau,  on  the  3d  of  April, 
he  collected  65,000  men,  and  supposed  he  might  hold  out.  But 
in  the  evening  arrived  a packet  from  Marmont,  containing  his 
correspondence  with  the  Austrian  General,  which  showed  that 
he  had  gone  over  to  the  enemy.  The  next  morning,  four  of  his 
Marshals  and  two  Councillors  came  into  his  presence,  and  ad- 
vised him  to  abdicate.  He  sent  to  Paris  three  Commissioners, 
to  treat  with  the  Allies ; and  immediately  abdicated  in  Abdication 
favor  of  his  son.  The  Allies  had  already  declared  of  Napoleon, 
that  they  would  not  treat  with  any  of  the  family  ; and  all  the 
world  could  see  that  there  would  be  no  security  for  peace  while 
Napoleon  lived,  with  his  infant  son  on  the  throne  of  France,  and 
his  wife  as  Regent.  Alexander  told  the  messengers,  “ It  is  too 
1 Life  of  Lord  Sidinouth,  iii.  p.  116.  2 France  and  its  Revolutions,  p.  509. 


430 


ABDICATION  OF  NAPOLEON. 


[Book  II. 


late  ; ” and,  the  next  morning.  Marshal  Ney  made  known,  through 
the  newspapers,  that  he  had  found  that  no  way  of  avoiding  civil 
war  remained  but  by  embracing  the  cause  of  the  ancient  Kings 
of  France.  lie,  now,  had  gone  over  to  the  Allies. 

Napoleon  struggled  on  till  the  11th,  endeavoring  to  negotiate 
with  his  father-in-law  on  behalf  of  the  child  and  grandchild  who 
was  the  bond  between  them.  But  here,  also,  it  was  “ too  late.” 
The  days  preceding  the  11th  were  very  wretched.  It  had  been 
a dreadful  blow  to  the  fallen  man  to  hear  from  the  lips  of  com- 
mon soldiers  on  the  road,  by  lamplight,  when  he  was  burning 
his  wheels  and  killing  horses  in  his  vehement  haste,  that  Paris 
had  capitulated.  Large  drops  of  perspiration  stood  on  his  fore- 
head, and  his  gaze  at  his  attendant  was  a glare.  But  there  was 
something  worse  in  the  wearing  and  accumulating  grief  of  these 
few  days  at  Fontainebleau.  Some  of  his  attendants  stole  away 
without  taking  leave  ; others  complained  of  his  delay  in  complet- 
ing the  act  of  abdication,  and  watched  the  opening  of  his  door, 
in  indecent  haste,  for  the  event  which  was  to  release  them  ; and, 
when  the  thing  was  done,  he  found  himself  almost  alone  in  a de- 
serted house.  He  was  not  a man  of  any  heart : and  it  was  not 
to  be  expected  that  he  would  gain  hearts  ; but  he  had  gratified 
some  affections  of  his  servants,  companions,  and  people  ; he  had 
gratified  their  vanity,  and  had,  at  ail  events,  long  lived  upon 
their  praises;  and  thus,  there  was  as  deep  a shame  in  their  sor- 
did defection  now,  as  if  he  had  deserved  from  them  a more  gen- 
uine attachment. 

The  signature  to  the  act  of  Abdication  is  scarcely  legible. 
ActofAb-  Napoleon’s  hand  shook  violently  while  he  signed, 

dicatiou.  By  this  treaty,  he  resigned  the  crowns  of  France  and 

Italy  for  himself  and  his  descendants  forever.  He  was  to 
retain  his  title  of  Emperor ; and  his  family  were  still  to  be 
termed  princes  and  princesses.  It  was  by  his  own  choice  that 
the  Island  of  Elba  was  named  for  his  place  of  residence ; and  it 
was  erected  into  a Principality  for  his  sake.  His  income  was  to 
be  100,000/.  a year,  from  the  revenues  of  the  countries  he  now 
yielded  up  ; and  France  was  to  guarantee  the  same  sum  to  his 
descendants.  His  wife  and  son  were  to  have  the  sovereignty  of 
Parma  and  Placentia ; and  the  Empress  Josephine  was  to  have 
an  income  of  40,000/.  from  the  French  government.  Napoleon 
was  to  take  with  him  400  F rench  soldiers  as  his  body-guard ; 
and  1500  of  his  Old  Guard  were  to  escort  him  to  the  coast. 

When  Napoleon  signed  this  treaty,  on  the  11th  of  April,  the 
Empress  was  on  her  way  to  him.  He  sent  a messenger  on  the 
. . 12th,  to  desire  her  not  to  come  yet.  That  night,  he 

Attempted  ? . *=>  7 

euidde  of  took  poison.  He  said,  during  his  sintering,  that 
Napoleon.  cou^  n0  ]onger  endure  life  ; the  desertion  of  his 


Chap.  IX.] 


DEPARTURE  EOR  ELBA. 


431 


old  comrades  had  broken  his  heart.1  The  poison,  which  he  is 
supposed  to  have  worn  next  his  person  since  the  Moscow  re- 
treat, had  lost  much  of  its  power  ; and,  after  a sharp  struggle, 
he  recovered.  He  observed  that  the  dose  was  not  strong 
enough,  and  that  God  did  not  will  his  death.  After  that,  he 
seemed  content  to  live. 

The  Empress  never  arrived.  When  she  went  to  her  carriage, 
on  the  9th  of  April,  no  one  of  all  her  Court  re-  Desertion  of 
mained  to  hand  her  in  but  her  Chamberlain.  All  the  theEmpr^es. 
rest  were  trying  which  could  get  first  to  Paris.  She  had  then 
no  other  idea  than  of  joining  her  husband  and  sharing  his  for- 
tunes ; but  means  were  found  on  the  way  of  informing  her  of  her 
husband’s  infidelities,  up  to  a late  date  ; and  of  convincing  her 
that  he  married  her,  not  for  herself,  but  for  connection : and  she 
was  brought  to  listen  to  the  counsels  of  her  father  and  of  Alex- 
ander, and  to  abandon  Napoleon  — like  the  rest  of  the  world. 
She  set  out  for  Vienna  with  her  son,  and  Napoleon  never  saw 
them  again. 

It  was  not  quite  the  whole  world  that  deserted  the  fallen  man. 
The  few  faithful  men  who  accompanied  him  to  the  coast,  or  to 
Elba,  and  then  to  St.  Helena,  are,  and  ever  will  be,  respected 
wherever  their  names  are  known,  — the  Bertrands,  Drouot,  and 
Cambronne,  and  Gourgaud.  Napoleon,  for  some  days,  believed 
that  it  was  the  Allies  who  prevented  his  wife  and  son,  by  force, 
from  coming  to  him ; and  he  refused  to  set  out  for  Elba,  declar- 
ing the  treaty  to  have  been  broken  by  such  an  intervention.  When 
convinced  that  his  wife  had  forsaken  him  by  her  own  choice,  he 
consented  to  go.  His  departure  was  a mournful  scene.  Departure 
He  said  to  his  Old  Guard  that  he  wished  he  could  em-  for  Elba- 
brace  them  all ; as  he  could  not,  he  embraced  the  standard  which 
they  had  so  often  followed.  He  actually  kissed  the  eagle,  and 
departed  amidst  the  sobs  and  tears  of  the  Guard,  who,  proba- 
bly, loved  him  more  than  any  others  whom  he  left  behind.  At 
Valence,  the  troops  drawn  out  to  receive  him  wore  the  Bourbon 
cockade;  at  Avignon,  he  saw  his  statues  overturned.  Further 
on,  matters  were  worse.  His  life  was  in  so  much  danger  that 
he  had  to  escape  from  a back  window,  and  travel  as  a courier, 
with  a white  cockade  on  his  breast ; and  again,  in  the  Austrian 
uniform,  to  save  himself  from  the  crowds  that  were  demanding 
his  head.  On  the  27th,  he  reached  the  coast,  at  Frejus ; and,  on 
the  28th,  he  sailed  for  Elba,  where  he  lived  less  than  ten  months. 
Those  could  have  known  little  of  the  philosophy  of  the  human 
mind  who  believed  that  Napoleon  could  remain  in  freedom,  the 
sovereign  of  a little  island  in  the  Mediterranean,  after  the  world 
had  been  at  his  feet,  and  when  he  did  not  know  why  it  should  not 
1 France  and  its  Revolutions,  p.  210. 


432 


RETURN  OF  THE  BOURBONS. 


[Book  II. 


be  so  again.  They  might  as  well  have  thrust  an  eagle  into  a 
walled  garden,  and  expected  it  not  to  fly  away.  He  remained 
in  Elba  less  than  ten  months. 

Meantime,  Josephine  had  died.  She  died  in  a month  after 
Death  of  Napoleon  left  France.  He  knew,  to  the  last,  that  no 

Josephine.  one  had  ever  loved  him  as  she  had  done.  Now  that 

she  was  dead,  and  that  his  living  wife  had  forsaken  him,  he  was 
so  forlorn  that  it  would  have  been  strange  if  he  had  not  tried 
what  his  power  might  yet  be  in  the  fields  of  ambition. 

It  was  on  the  7tb  of  the  next  March,  while  the  Potentates 
of  Europe  and  their  representatives  were  assembled  at  Vienna, 
settling  the  affairs  of  Europe  in  the  morning,  and  enjoying  fetes 
in  the  evenings,  that  Wellington  gave  the  Sovereigns  the  news1 
that  Napoleon  had  secretly  left  Elba.  The  portentous  fact  was 
whispered  about  the  ballroom  that  night,  to  those  most  nearly 
concerned,  but  concealed  from  all  others.  The  few  who  knew 
walked  about  among  the  lights  and  the  music,  with  a conscious- 
ness that  a new  period  of  war  had  set  in ; while  the  thoughtless 
crowd  around  them  were  still  exchanging  the  first  thoughts  and 
feelings  of  peace. 

What  had  been  done  during  the  interval  ? 

On  the  13th  of  April,  two  days  after  Napoleon  had  signed  his 
Return  of  act  abdication,  the  brother  of  the  Bourbon  claimant 
theBour-  of  the  French  throne  appeared  at  the  gates  of  Paris. 

He  was  met  and  welcomed  by  the  Provisional  Gov- 
ernment, and  by  Lord  Castlereagh,  who  appeared  as  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  nation  which  had  played  the  host  to  the  Bour- 
bons, during  their  exile.  The  Prince  went  to  Notre  Dame,  to 
return  thanks  for  the  restoration  of  his  family.  On  the  20th, 
while  Napoleon  was  kissing  the  eagle,  and  calling  tears  from  the 
eyes  of  his  Old  Guard,  the  new  King  of  France  was  embracing 
the  Prince  Regent  at  the  entrance  of  London,  and  passing 
through  the  streets  in  grand  procession,  on  his  way  to  take  pos- 
session of  his  dominions.  Arrived  at  his  hotel,  he  held  his  first 
levee  as  King,2  and  conferred  honors  for  the  first  time,  — taking 
from  his  own  shoulder  the  ribbon  and  star  of  the  order  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  putting  them  on  the  neck  of  the  Prince  Regent.  The 
English  princes  accompanied  him  to  Dover ; and  Lord  Sidmouth 
waited  on  him  to  Paris.  On  the  25th,  he  set  foot  once  more  on 
French  soil,  amidst  the  vociferous  rejoicings  of  the  people  of 
Calais.  On  the  3d  of  May,  he  entered  Paris.  By  his  side  was 
the  Duchess  d’Angouleme,  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  Even 
her  presence  excited  no  sentiment  among  the  crowds  in  the 
streets  ; for  the  people  of  Paris  had  no  sentiment  about  the 
Bourbons.  They  joked  about  the  fat  and  gout  of  the  King,  and 

1 Despatches,  x.  p.  266.  2 Annual  Register,  1814.  Chron.  p.  34. 


Chap.  IX.]  REJOICINGS  OYER  THE  PEACE. 


433 


observed  that  the  Duchess  d’Angouleme  wore  the  small  bonnet 
then  in  fashion  in  England : but,  when  they  saw  Napoleon’s 
Guard  in  the  procession,  they  cried,  “ Long  live  the  Old  Guard ; ” 
and  this  was  the  only  cry  of  the  day.  The  Bourbons  were  not 
a people  to  take  warning  by  any  signs  of  popular  feeling,  small 
or  great.  It  was  soon  found,  and  said  of  them,  that  they  “ had 
learned  nothing,  and  had  forgotten  nothing.”  Their  only  idea 
was  to  rule  as  the  Bourbons  had  ruled  before  the  Revolution. 
Nothing  could  exceed  the  imprudence  of  their  first  measures  ; 
and  they  did  nothing,  during  the  ten  months  of  Napoleon’s  resi- 
dence in  Elba,  to  create  an  interest  in  the  place  of  that  which 
he  had  left  vacant. 

On  the  30th  of  May,  a Treaty  of  Peace  was  concluded  be- 
tween France  and  the  Allies,  according  to  which  the  Treaty  of 
boundaries  of  France  were  declared  to  be  nearly  what  Paris- 
they  were  before  the  war  of  1793.  On  the  day  of  the  signature 
of  the  treaty,  the  strangers  — both  Princes  and  soldiers  — began 
to  leave  Paris.  The  sovereigns  and  princes  came,  in  consider- 
able numbers,  to  England.  The  Duke  of  Clarence  was  quite 
happy  in  his  share  of  the  business,  — crossing  between  Dover 
and  Calais  very  often,  as  escort  to  royal  personages,  firing  salutes, 
manning  his  yards,  and  cheering.  Most  men  were,  at  London 
that  time,  like  overgrown  boys.  Wilberforce’s  affec-  sayety. 
tionate  heart,  indeed,  was  sighing  for  his  friend  Pitt  — longing 
that  he  could  see  and  know  that  we  had  a peace  founded  on  Na- 
poleon’s downfall.  Lord  Eldon’s  bad  taste,  always  extreme  on 
grand  occasions,  blazoned  itself  now  on  the  front  of  his  house, 
where,  on  the  three  nights  of  illumination,  there  appeared,  in  col- 
ored lamps,  the  words  Thanks  to  God  ! ” There  was  some- 
thing worse  than  bad  taste  in  other  devices,  during  that  illumi- 
nation. Napoleon  appeared  in  a myriad  of  transparencies  — 
always  in  cocked  hat  and  boots  — haunted  by  the  Duke  d’En- 
ghien,  struggling  in  the  grasp  of  the  devil,  writhing  in  the  lake 
of  fire,  and  so  on.  The  exhibition  of  cruel  passions  towards  him, 
and  of  maudlin  flattery  of  the  Bourbons,  might  be  natural  at  the 
close  of  so  long  and  hard  a war ; but  it  was  humbling  to  thought- 
ful spectators. 

The  Illustrious  Strangers,  as  the  whole  group  of  foreigners 
was  called,  were  feasted  and  complimented  in  all  directions.  The 
brave  old  Bliicher  had  an  Oxford  degree  conferred  on  him,  at 
the  same  time  with  the  Emperor  of  Russia  and  the  King  of 
Prussia.  Banquets  were  given  by  the  London  Corporations ; 
there  were  military  reviews  in  the  Parks,  and  a naval  review  at 
Portsmouth ; and  a procession  to  St.  Paul’s,  to  return  thanks  for 
the  restoration  of  peace  ; and,  in  August,  after  some  of  the  stran- 
gers were  gone,  a jubilee  in  the  Parks,  of  three  days’  duration. 
vol.  i.  28 


434 


WELLINGTON  COMES  HOME. 


[Book  1L 


These  festivals  and  shows  were  ad  welcome  to  a people  long  de- 
pressed, and  now  in  wild  hope  of  a period  of  national  prosperity ; 
Wellington’s  but  the  strongest  interest  of  all,  perhaps,  was  the 
return.  reappearance  of  Wellington,  after  his  five  years’  ab- 
sence. In  his  characteristic  manner,  he  landed  at  Dover  at  the 
earliest  possible  moment,  went  straight  to  London,  and  walked 
into  the  House  of  Lords.  He  had  left  the  country  Sir  Arthur 
Wellesley:  he  returned  a Duke.  As  soon  as  the  sloop  of  war 
conveying  him  was  seen  off  Dover,  at  five  in  the  morning  of  the 
28th  of  June,  the  sea  and  shore  resounded  with  the  salutes  fired 
from  the  ships  and  from  the  cliffs.1  Multitudes  came  thronging  to 
the  landing-place  ; and  they  carried  the  hero  on  their  shoulders  to 
his  inn,  amidst  a roar  of  acclamation.2  That  same  evening,  he  was 
told  by  the  Lord  Chancellor,  in  the  presence  of  a crowded  House 
of  Lords,  that  his  was  the  only  instance  in  the  history  of  the 
British  Peerage,  of  an  individual  being,  at  his  first  entrance  into 
that  House,  a Baron,  a Viscount,  an  Earl,  a Marquess,  and  a 
Duke  — each  rank  being  won  by  distinct  services  to  the  country. 
Royal  personages  had  had  all  the  dignities  heaped  upon  them  by 
a single  gift;  but  no  similar  instance  existed  of  rising  by  patriotic 
service  through  all  the  ranks,  before  taking  a seat  among  the  peers. 
Then  followed  city  and  royal  banquets,  given  in  his  honor,  at 
which  the  royal  family  were  solicitous  to  pay  their  tribute  of 
homage  to  one  who  stood  high  above  the  patronage  of  potentates. 
It  was  in  May,  while  he  was  at  Paris,  that  his  highest  title  was 
conferred  upon  him ; and  parliament  voted  him  half  a million  of 
money,  for  the  purchase  of  an  estate,  and  the  support  of  his  rank. 
An  unprecedented  offer  of  homage  was  made,  in  a Resolution 
that  a deputation  from  the  House  of  Commons  should  wait  on 
him  on  his  return,  to  congratulate  and  compliment  him.  Wel- 
lington, on  being  requested  to  appoint  a time,  begged  leave  rather 
to  go  himself,  and  pay  his  respects  in  person  ; and  he  appeared 
in  the  middle  of  the  House,  in  the  afternoon  of  the  1st  of  July. 
His  address  was  simple  and  earnest ; 3 and  it  ended,  as  all  his  acts 
have  ever  ended,  in  a declaration  that  he  was  always  ready  for 
the  service  of  his  sovereign  and  his  country.  This  appearance 
of  the  great  soldier  before  a grateful  parliament  has  always  been 
spoken  of  by  those  who  witnessed  it  as  impressive  in  the  highest 
degree.  It  was  not  long  before  he  began  to  suspect  that  his  ser- 
vices might  soon  be  required  ; — not  against  Napoleon,  for  there 
is  no  evidence  that  he  anticipated  what  actually  happened,  but 
against  Russia  and  Prussia,  with  whom  we  might  presently  have 
been  at  war,  if  Napoleon  had  remained  quietly  in  Elba.  At 
the  end  of  the  year,  when  the  people  and  the  newspapers  were 

1 Annual  Register,  1814.  Chron.  p.  55.  2 Life  of  Lord  Eldon,  ii.  p.  252. 

8 Hansard,  xxviii.  p.  490. 


Chap.  IX.] 


RETURN  OF  NAPOLEON. 


435 


complaining  that  the  peace  had  not  answered  anybody’s  expec- 
tation ; that  the  fabrics  exhibited  at  the  German  fairs  popular 
were  so  much  more  elegant  than  our  own,  that  our  misgivings, 
manufactures  were  not  likely  to  find  a sale  abroad ; that  shoals 
of  English  tourists  were  spending  their  cash  abroad,  and  thus  (for 
such  was  the  popular  apprehension)  turning  the  balance  of  trade 
against  us  ; and  that  even  true-born  Britons  were  settling  abroad, 
for  the  sake  of  cheapness  of  living ; — while  such  were  the  pop- 
ular complaints,  the  representatives  of  England  at  the  Congress 
of  Vienna  were  of  opinion  that  the  people  would  soon  be  again 
in  the  state  of  war  to  which  they  had  been  so  long  accustomed. 

While  Napoleon  was  apparently  busy  in  his  little  island,  mak- 
ing roads,  building,  and  tiring  out  three  horses  in  succession  in 
his  morning  rides,  he  had  his  eye  on  Europe  ; and  Distrust 
doubtless  knew  more  or  less  of  the  plotting  that  was  abroad- 
going  on  there.  In  January,  1815,  conspiracies  were  talked  of 
everywhere  in  France  ; and  their  being  talked  of  indicated  that 
people  were  unsettled,  and  in  expectation  of  change.  In  Feb- 
ruary, a secret  treaty  was  made  between  Austria,  France,  and 
England,  whereby  those  Powers  bound  themselves  to  bring  into 
the  field  150,000  men  each,  to  enforce  the  fulfilment  of  the  Treaty 
of  Paris 1 — various  breaches  in  which  were  contemplated  by 
Russia  and  Prussia.  Wellington  had  been  our  ambassador  at 
Paris  for  the  last  half-year.  In  January,  he  went  to  Vienna  ; in 
February  he  was  a party  to  this  secret  treaty  ; and  in  March, 
that  news  told  in  the  ballroom  showed  him  that  his  services 
would  now  be  required  against  the  old  enemy,  rather  than  against 
any  of  our  allies. 

Of  all  the  assembled  personages,  Alexander  seems  to  have 
been  most  angry  at  Napoleon’s  return.  Enough  had  Napoleon’s 
been  known  of  the  exile’s  correspondence  with  the  return- 
shores  of  Italy  and  France  to  make  various  members  of  the  Con- 
gress anxious  to  have  him  removed  to  the  Canary  islands,  or  St. 
Helena,  or  some  other  safer  rock  in  a wider  sea  than  Elba.2  It 
appears  that  the  Austrian  Minister  had  even  sounded  some  per- 
sons at  Paris  as  to  the  effect  which  would  be  produced  by  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  child  — the  little  King  of  Rome  — on  the  fron- 
tier. But  Alexander  had  declared  steadily  in  favor  of  the  exact 
fulfilment  of  the  treaty  of  Fontainebleau,  and  had  pleaded  his 
personal  honor  as  involved  in  leaving  Napoleon  unmolested.  It 
was  exasperating  to  the  Emperor  to  hear  that  night  that  Napo- 
leon had  secretly  left  Elba ; and  then,  in  a day  or  two,  that  he 
had  landed  at  Frejus.  The  Austrian  Minister  appeared  to  be  no 
less  indignant  in  the  name  of  his  Court ; for  in  his  first  proclama- 
tions Napoleon  declared  that  he  returned  with  the  concurrence 
1 Alison’s  History,  x.  p.  828.  2 Ibid.  p.  837. 


436 


ENGLISH  WAR  MEASURES. 


[Book  II. 


of  Austria,  to  resume  the  throne  for  himself  and  his  family. 
Metternich’s  immediate  proposal  — offered  so  early  as  the  12th 
of  March  — was  that  the  Congress  should  pass  a formal  declara- 
tion of  outlawry  from  the  comity  of  nations  against  Napoleon. 
This  was  done,  and  signed  by  all  the  Powers.1  Napoleon  was 
thereby  pronounced  a public  enemy,  proscribed,  de- 
Proscription.  cjare(j  incapakie  0f  treating  with  any  power,  and  des- 
tined to  be  crushed  by  the  united  forces  which  were  pledged  to 
put  down  all  revolutionary  attempts. 

It  is  interesting  to  look  over  now  the  file  of  the  “ Moniteur  ” 
for  that  month  of  March  ; — the  “ Moniteur  ” which  speaks,  with 
an  appearance  of  cool  audacity,  whatever  the  government  of  the 
hour  has  to  say,  let  that  government  change  as  often  as  it  may. 
There  is  a brief  intimation  that  Napoleon  had  quitted  Elba  ; then 
a notice  that  the  weather  was  too  misty  for  telegraphic  commu- 
nication ; then  a paragraph  telling  of  the  arrival  of  the  adven- 
turer at  Lyons,  but  that  only  a few  peasants  took  notice  of  his 
presence  on  the  road  ; then,  total  silence  for  some  days  on  this 
subject,  while  everything  else  is  noted  and  discussed  as  usual ; 
then,  the  Court  article,  telling  in  the  briefest  words  that  the  King 
and  the  princes  had  departed  during  the  night,  and  that  his  Maj- 
esty, the  Emperor,  had  arrived  at  his  palace  of  the  Tuileries  at 
eight  o’clock  the  succeeding  evening. 

There  he  was  ! and  the  army  was  at  his  beck  ; and  the  people, 
Arrival  in  if  not  attached  to  him,  were  abundantly  disgusted  with 

Paris.  the  Bourbons.  There  he  was,  in  his  palace  of  the 

Tuileries,  as  formidable  as  ever,  to  all  appearance  ! It  was  bad 
news  for  London  — bad  news  for  every  cottage  in  Great  Britain. 
The  old  sickening  superstitious  feeling  came  back  in  all  its  force 
— that  we  could  not  get  rid  of  this  demon.  We  had  posted  him 
up,  in  transparencies  at  our  illuminations,  as  haunted,  and  as  ex- 
piating his  crimes  ; and  now,  he  was  haunting  us  again.  It  was 
some  comfort  that  Wellington  wrote  that  it  need  not  be  for  long, 
if  we  would  exert  ourselves.  Wellington  had  been  requested  at 
once  by  the  assembled  Powers  to  draw  out  a plan  of  military 
operations.  He  did  it ; 2 and  advised  his  government  to  practise 
no  false  economy  at  this  critical  season  ; but  to  bring  into  the 
Measures  field  every  man  they  could  raise,  and  to  assist  foreign 

taken  Powers  with  every  guinea  that  could  be  collected, 

against  him.  efy0Iq  maje  under  the  stimulus  of  the  passions 

of  the  time  was  enormous.  125,000  men  were  furnished  without 
delay ; and  Lord  Liverpool’s  government  made  an  unheard-of 
demand  for  money,  and  obtained  all  they  asked,  without  a di- 
vision. Only  thirty-seven  members  of  the  Commons  had  voted 
against  going  to  war  ; and  none  voted  against  raising  the  means 
1 Aliaon’s  History,  x.  p.  840.  2 Despatches,  xii.  p.  279. 


Chap.  IX.]  NAPOLEON’S  PLANS  AND  MEASURES.  437 

necessary  for  war.  The  budget  of  the  year  very  nearly  reached 
the  sum  of  £90,000,000. 

It  was  on  the  20th  of  March  that  Napoleon  reached  Paris, 
escorted  by  all  the  soldiers  who  had  been  sent  out  against  him. 
On  the  23d,  the  Powers  who  had  made  the  Treaty  of  Chau- 
mont,  a year  before,  confirmed  its  provisions,  under  Treaty  of 
the  name  of  the  treaty  of  Vienna.  Being  thus  bound  Vietma* 
to  make  war  together  upon  Napoleon,  and  to  make  no  separate 
peace  with  him,  the  signers  went  about  their  work.  Wellington 
left  Vienna  on  the  29th  for  Belgium,  where  the  war  was  pretty 
sure  to  begin.  He  arrived  at  Brussels  on  the  4th  of  April.  He 
knew  it  would  be  some  weeks  before  Napoleon  would  take  the 
field  ; but  not  for  an  hour  did  he  linger  over  his  preparations. 
On  the  day  of  Wellington’s  arrival  at  Brussels,1  Napoleon  de- 
spatched letters  to  the  crowned  heads  of  Europe,  informing  them 
of  his  being  at  home  again,  and  of  his  intention  to  meddle  with 
nobody.  He  would  absolutely  respect  the  independence  of  States, 
and,  if  others  would  be  as  orderly  as  himself,  quiet  would  pre- 
vail, for  justice  should  be  seated  on  the  confines  of  kingdoms,  and 
should  protect  their  frontiers.  His  Ministers  wrote  by  the  same 
couriers  to  the  Ministers  of  other  sovereigns  ; but  the  couriers 
were  all  stopped,  and  the  letters  carried  in  a body  to  Vienna. 
Napoleon  was  outlawed ; and  his  correspondence  was  not  to  be 
respected.  The  royal  readers  of  his  epistles  must  have  sickened 
at  the  well-known  style,  by  which  each  had  been  cajoled  in  turn. 

Paris  was  not  what  it  had  been  to  Napoleon.  He  found  him- 
self obliged  to  accept,  and  arm,  and  speak  fair,  the  true  Constitu 
revolutionary  force  of  the  capital,  though  neither  he  nor  tionai  mon- 
his  army  liked  the  intrusion  of  a kind  of  mob  upon  the  a™!?J  at 
military  function.  He  found  himself  obliged  to  estab- 
lish a Constitutional  Monarchy  ; and  the  Chambers  spoke  no  lon- 
ger as  his  creatures,  but  as  efficient  portions  of  the  constitution. 
At  the  very  moment  of  announcing  the  establishment  of  this  mode 
of  government,  he  declared,  in  relation  to  the  coalition  of  Kings 
against  France,  that  he  and  his  army  would  do  their  duty.  He 
did  not  invite  the  people,  included  under  the  Constitution,  to  share 
in  the  duty  of  defending  their  country.  These  declarations  were 
uttered  on  the  7th  of  June.  He  had  already  made  his  choice  be- 
tween the  two  methods  that  offered  themselves  for  defending  the 
country.  He  might  wait,  on  the  defensive,  till  the  Allies  should 
come  ; in  which  case,  the  people  might  give  him  some  help  ; or 
he  might  go  forth  and  meet  the  enemy ; in  which  case  he  and  his 
army  would  be  responsible  for  the  safety  of  France.  He  deter- 
mined to  go  forth  ; and  into  Belgium  first,  as  Wellington  had  ex- 
pected. His  forces,  which  amounted  by  this  time  to  180,000  men, 
1 France  and  its  Revolutions,  p.  519. 


438 


QUATRE  BRAS  AND  LIGNY. 


[Book  II. 


were  marching  towards  the  northern  frontier  while  he  was  ad- 
dressing the  Chambers.  On  the  11th,  he  appointed  a govern- 
Napoieon  rnent  of  fourteen  men  to  act  in  concert  with  the  C ham- 
proceeds  to  bers  during  his  absence  ; then  dined  with  his  family, 
Belgium.  an(t  set  out  in  the  evening  for  his  last  campaign.  On 
the  13th,  he  was  near  the  frontier,  at  Avesnes  ; on  the  15th,  he 
was  with  his  army,  122,000  strong,  at  Charleroi.  His  intention 
was  to  prostrate  the  Prussians  the  next  day,  and  “ measure  him- 
self with  this  Wellington  ” on  the  17th  or  18th.  While  he  ad- 
vanced, thus  unmolested,  and  even  un watched,  Wellington  and  the 
Prussian  Commander  were  waiting,  with  their  forces  scattered, 
for  promised  intelligence  from  Fouche  of  Napoleon’s  progress  and 
plans.  They  were  two  more  added  to  the  long  list  of  Fou che’s 
dupes.  Fouche  sent  what  he  had  promised;1  but  contrived 
such  obstacles  in  the  way  of  the  bearer  — a lady  — that  she 
could  not  arrive  till  after  Napoleon  had  chosen  his  ground.  It 
was  on  the  evening  of  the  15th2  that  Wellington  received  the 
news  at  Brussels  of  the  whereabout  of  the  French.  He  in- 
The  British  stantly  perceived  that  the  object  was  to  separate  his 
at  Brussels.  force  from  the  Prussians.  He  sent  off  orders  to  his 
troops  in  every  direction  to  march  upon  Quatre  Bras.  This  done, 
he  dressed  and  went  to  a ball,  where  no  one  would  have  discov- 
ered from  his  manner  that  he  had  heard  any  remarkable  news. 
It  was  whispered  about  the  rooms,  however,  that  the  French 
were  not  far  off ; and  some  officers  dropped  off  in  the  course  of 
the  evening  — called  by  their  duty,  and  leaving  heavy  hearts  be- 
hind them.  Many  parted  so  who  never  met  again.  It  was  about 
midnight  when  the  general  officers  were  summoned.  Somewhat 
later,  the  younger  officers  were  very  quietly  called  away  from 
their  partners ; and  by  sunrise  of  the  summer  morning  of  the 
16th,  all  were  on  their  march. 

The  first  news  that  reached  Paris  was  of  victory.  Bliicher 
Quatre  Bras  and  his  Prussians  were  at  Ligny,  with  the  exception 
and  Ligny.  0f  £jie  4^  corps,  under  Billow,  which  had  not  come 
up.  Napoleon  sent  Ney  round,  early  in  the  morning  of  the 
16th,  to  attack  Bliicher  in  the  rear,  while  he  attacked  him  in 
front ; and  in  extreme  impatience,  Napoleon  waited  till  four 
in  the  afternoon3  for  the  sound  of  Ney’s  guns  in  the  rear  of 
the  Prussians.  But  Ney  was  otherwise  occupied.  He  had  en- 
countered the  allied  force,  which  held  the  position  of  Quatre  Bras  ; 
and  he  could  not  dislodge  them.  Bliicher  all  the  while  was  anx- 
iously awaiting  the  arrival  of  Billow’s  Prussian  corps  and  of  the 
Allied  force  ; but  neither  of  them  appeared.  At  four  o’clock,  Na- 
poleon attacked  him.  For  three  hours,  the  desperate  fight  ap- 

1 Fouch^’s  Memoirs,  ii.  pp.  340,  342.  2 Despatches,  x p.  478. 

8 Alison’s  History,  x.  p.  925. 


Chap.  IX.] 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO. 


439 


peared  to  give  no  advantage  on  either  side.  Then  some  French 
reinforcements  began  to  come  up,  and  Napoleon  brought  forward 
all  his  reserves,  while  no  aid  appeared  to  the  Prussians.  They 
fell  back  ; and  their  retreat  presently  became  somewhat  disor- 
derly. The  French  captured  twenty-one  pieces  of  cannon,  which 
had  been  left  entangled  in  the  narrow  lanes  behind  the  village 
of  Ligny ; but  there  was  no  pursuit  during  the  night.  This  was 
the  victory  of  the  16th  of  June,  which  was  announced  in  Paris. 
At  Quatre  Bras,  the  British  and  their  Allies  had  held  their 
ground,  with  considerable  loss  ; — the  Duke  of  Brunswick  being 
killed,  among  many  others.  Their  cavalry  had  not  come  up  ; 
and  in  both  fields,  the  French  force  far  exceeded  that  of  their 
opponents.1  The  next  morning,  Wellington  sent  a patrol  to 
Bliicher,  when  it  was  found  that  the  French  had  not  only  ab- 
stained from  pursuit,  but  that  their  scouts  fell  back  as  the  patrol 
advanced.  Bluchers  retreat  compelled  Wellington  to  retire 
from  Quatre  Bras  ; and  by  the  afternoon  of  the  17th,  he  and  his 
army  had  fallen  back  to  Waterloo.2  There  the  great  Captain 
drew  out  his  forces,  across  two  high-roads,  with  a ravine  at  his 
right  extremity,  and  a height  above  a hamlet  as  his  extreme  post 
on  the  left,  whence  he  could  communicate  with  Bliicher,  who  had 
promised  to  come  to  his  aid,  if  he  should  be  attacked.  In  front 
of  the  right-centre  was  a farm-house ; in  front  of  the  left-centre 
was  another.  All  the  night  of  the  17th,  the  French  were  taking 
up  their  position  on  a range  of  heights  in  front. 

At  ten  o’clock  on  the  morning  of  the  18th,  the  French  made 
the  attack.  All  day,  they  strove  for  the  farm-house 
in  front  of  the  British  right-centre;  and  all  day  it  Waterlo°* 
was  held  against  them.  They  won  the  other  farm-house  — the 
German  legion  within  it  having  expended  their  ammunition, 
and  being,  at  the  moment,  cut  off  from  supply.  A heavy  can- 
nonading along  the  whole  line  accompanied  and  sustained  these 
assaults  ; and  during  the  whole  day,  the  British  in  their  lines 
sustained  the  fierce  charges,  in  constant  succession,  now  of  cav- 
alry, now  of  infantry,  now  of  cavalry  and  infantry  together. 
There  is  nothing  in  the  history  of  battles  more  sublime  than  the 
generalship  which  could  order,  and  the  patient  valor  that  could 
sustain,  such  a method  of  fighting  as  this.  It  foiled  Napoleon 
in  his  strongest  point.  He  had  always  hitherto  broken  through 
the  enemy’s  line,  by  bringing  his  force  to  bear  upon  one  part  (a 
weak  one,  if  he  could  find  it)  ; but  here  he  tried  after  it  for  the 
whole  day  without  succeeding.  He  had  now  “ to  measure  himself 
with  this  Wellington  ; ” and  he  had  met  his  match.  He  gath- 
ered his  artillery  en  masse , and  made  dreadful  havoc  on  certain 
points  ; — the  vacant  space  was  instantly  filled  up  again.  He 
1 Despatches,  xii.  p.  480.  2 Ibid.  p.  481. 


440 


THE  FRENCH  ARMY  ANNIHILATED.  rBooK  II. 


arranged  his  bodies  of  cavalry  so  as  to  support  each  other,  and 
sent  them  to  make  desperate  efforts  to  pierce  the  British  line  of 
infantry.  In  a moment,  the  line  became  squares,  and  the  ground 
was  maintained.  At  six  in  the  evening,  not  a point  was  gained 
by  the  French.  Any  advantage  which  had  been  yielded  in  the 
shock  of  a moment,  had  been  immediately  resumed.  In  the  quiet 
words  of  Wellington,  “ these  attacks  were  uniformly  unsuccessful.’* 
It  was  impossible,  after  these  eight  hours  of  slaughter,  to  say 
where  the  victory  would  rest.  The  most  doubtful  moment  for 
the  Allies  was  soon  after  this  — about  seven  o’clock.  By  this 
time  Billow’s  corps  had  come  up  ; and  Blucher  himself  was  on 
the  heights  on  the  British  left  — ready  to  take  charge  of  the 
French  right.  Napoleon  was  now  about  to  make  a final  desper- 
ate effort  to  rout  the  Allies,  by  an  attack  of  a vast  force  upon  the 
British  left-centre.  Wellington  saw  it ; and  ordered  every  dis- 
posable man  to  the  spot.1  Presently,  the  continued  roar  of  can- 
non and  musketry  was  “ the  most  dinning  ” ever  heard  by  those 
on  the  field.  Presently  again,  there  was  a sudden,  complete, 
brief  pause  ; and  then  again,  a tremendous  outburst  of  mingled 
sounds.  The  French  had  been  checked,  cast  in  heaps  of  dead 
and  wounded  ; the  remainder  turned,  fled,  and  were  in  an  instant 
pursued  by  the  whole  British  line.  When  Napoleon  saw  that 
the  British  had  broken  in  upon  his  Old  Guard,  he  turned  pale 
as  death,  and  said,  in  a tone  of  dismay,  “ They  are  all  mixed  ! ” 
Wellington’s  word  to  his  Guards  in  a ditch,  “Up,  Guards,  and 
at  them ! ” had  been  potent.  They  were  all  mixed,  as  the  British 
bore  down  the  best  reserve  and  last  hope  of  Napoleon. 

The  success  of  the  battle  was,  however,  mainly  secured  by  the 
arrival  of  the  Prussians.2  Napoleon  had  foreseen  that  the  Ger- 
mans would  advance  upon  his  right  flank  when  he  made  his 
grand  attack  ; and  the  heads  of  his  reserve  columns  appeared, 
one  behind  another,  with  their  supports  of  artillery  — an  army 
in  themselves,  to  oppose  the  Prussians.  The  Prussians  out- 
flanked them,  however,  penetrated  their  force  on  that  side,  and 
pressed  in  upon  the  main  body  so  severely,  while  the  British 
were  bearing  them  along  in  front,  that  the  crush  was  complete. 
The  French  army  was  annihilated.  From  an  army  it  became  a 
mass  of  panic-stricken  fugitives  — and  over  they  went  — over 
the  heights  which  they  had  so  splendidly  descended  in  the  morn- 
ing, pursued  by  the  victors  till  eleven  o’clock,  when  the  British, 
worn  out  at  the  end  of  thirteen  hours  from  the  first  attack,  left 
it  to  the  fresher  Prussians  to  continue  the  pursuit  through  the 
night.  During  the  night,  Blucher  and  his  Prussians  took  sixty 
more  pieces  of  cannon,3  — the  cannon  of  the  Imperial  Guard 

1 Letter  of  Gardiner.  Ward’s  Memoirs,  i.  p.  493. 

2 Despatches,  xii.  p.  484.  3 Ibid.  x.  p.  482. 


Chap.  IX.]  NAPOLEON  SENT  TO  ST.  HELENA. 


441 


and  much  baggage  and  several  carriages  belonging  to  Napoleon. 
One  hundred  and  fifty  pieces  of  cannon,  with  their  ammunition, 
had  been  taken  on  the  field. 

For  the  third  time  Napoleon  returned  to  Paris  without  an 
army.  After  Moscow,  after  Leipsic,  he  had  rallied  Napoleon>fi 
his  forces,  and  gone  forth  again.  All  was  over  now  ; return  to 
and  he  never  went  forth  again,  but  to  the  captivity  in  aris‘ 
which  he  ended  his  days.  It  was  four  o’clock  in  the  morning  of 
the  21st  that  he  reached  Paris.  When  the  Prussians,  who  had 
followed  him,  broke  into  the  palace  at  Malmaison  in  the  evening 
of  the  29th,  he  had  just  driven  away,  after  taking  leave  forever 
of  the  few  faithful  friends  who  had  remained  with  him.  From 
the  3d  to  the  14th  of  July  he  lingered  at  Rochefort,  hoping 
against  hope  for  some  chance  of  restoration.  He  thence  wrote  a 
letter  to  the  Prince  Regent,  as  “ the  most  generous  ” of  his  ene- 
mies, craving  leave  to  live  in  England,  as  a private  individual. 
Early  in  the  morning  of  the  15th,  he  went  on  board  the  Bellero- 
phon,  which  immediately  conveyed  him  to  England.  For  some 
days,  Torbay  was  crowded  with  boats,  from  which  he  was  seen 
on  the  deck  of  the  vessel  by  multitudes  to  whom  he  had  been  a 
prominent  object  of  thought  since  the  opening  of  the  century. 
On  the  30th,  he  was  officially  informed  that  he  was  to  be  con- 
veyed to  St.  Helena,  to  spend  the  rest  of  his  days  on  a rock  in 
the  midst  of  the  Atlantic.  His  wrath  was  great,  as  might  have 
been  expected.  He  protested  that  he  was  not  a prisoner.  It 
was  true  that  he  had  gone  on  board  the  Bellerophon  uninvited  ; 
but  it  was  also  true  that  he  had  gone  un tempted,  and  under  the 
warning  that  the  commander,  Captain  Maitland,  could  make  no 
promises.  His  long  course  of  perfidy  had  deprived  him  of  all 
right  to  claim  trust ; and  his  unscrupulous  ambition  made  him 
too  dangerous  to  be  left  at  large.  For  the  security  of  the  human 
race,  he  must  be  outlawed  ; and  he  had  outlawed  himself  by 
proving  that  no  engagements  and  no  principles  could  bind  him. 
He  was  carried  to  St.  Helena,  by  the  agreement  of  j8  earned  to 
the  sovereigns  of  Europe,  who  committed  the  charge  st-  Helena- 
of  him  to  that  nation  which  he  had  most  constantly  and  most 
bitterly  hated. 

The  French  force  on  the  field  of  Waterloo  was  about  72,000 
men  ; the  army  under  Wellington  68,000  ; the  Prussians  bringing 
36,000  more  in  the  evening.  Napoleon  had  240  pieces  of  can- 
non ; Wellington  180.  The  loss,  in  killed  and  wounded,  of  the 
Allies  was  nearly  11,000,  besides  6000  Prussians.  That  of  the 
French  was  40,000.  But  their  force  was  besides  wholly  broken 
and  dispersed  ; and  it  never  rallied.1  After  passing  their  own 
frontier,  the  infantry  melted  away  among  the  villages  of  France ; 

1 Alison’s  History,  x.  p.  959. 


442 


JOY  IN  ENGLAND. 


[Book  IL 


and  the  artillery  sold  their  horses,  and  returned  to  their  homes. 
An  attempt  was  made  to  defend  Paris,  under  the  dread  of  the 
Capitulation  return  of  the  Bourbons ; and  on  the  third  of  July 
of  Paris.  the  capitulation  of  Paris  was  signed.  The  soldiery 

marched  out,  with  their  arms  and  equipments,  and  proceeded  to 
the  Loire,  beyond  which  they  were  to  transport  themselves.  On 
the  7th,  Wellington  led  the  army  of  the  Allies  into  Paris.  The 
Bourbons  were  close  behind  ; and  Louis  XVIII.  made  his  entry 
the  next  day.  All  was  silent  and  forlorn.  The  streets  were 
almost  deserted  ; and  the  clang  of  the  horses’  feet  echoed  from 
the  lofty  houses.  The  Prussians  were  with  difficulty  prevented  1 
from  hauling  down  the  public  monuments  of  Napoleon’s  victories, 
and  blowing  up  bridges ; and  in  the  environs,  their  troops  were 
pillaging  without  mercy.  The  works  of  Art  which  Napoleon 
had  gathered  together  from  the  conquered  cities  of  Europe  were 
sent  back  to  their  places  ; and  the  inhabitants  of  Paris  felt,  for 
the  first  time,  what  subjugation  was. 

England,  meantime,  was  almost  mad  with  joy.  The  previous 
The  news  in  suspense  had  been  terrible  ; and  in  London,  people 
England.  could  hardly  sleep  for  the  expectation  of  news  from 
Belgium.  At  last,  the  Park  and  Tower  guns  told  that  ihe  news 
was  good.  The  Gazette  was  read  to  crowds  in  the  streets. 
Every  house  was  lighted  up.  A day  of  Thanksgiving  was 
appointed  ; and  the  collection  in  the  churches  and  chapels  of  the 
kingdom,  on  behalf  of  those  widowed,  orphaned,  and  maimed, 
by  thn  battle  of  Waterloo,  amounted  to  500,000/.  Both  Houses 
of  Parliament  voted  thanks  to  Wellington  and  his  army;  and 
the  Waterloo  medal  was  struck  — to  be  worn  by  every  man 
engaged  on  that  memorable  18th  of  June. 

It  was  not  till  November  that  the  Second  Treaty  of  Paris  was 
Second  signed ; and  during  the  whole  interval  800,000  foreign 
treaty  of  troops  were  quartered  on  the  inhabitants  of  France. 

It  was  on  the  20th  of  November  that  the  treaty  was 
signed  and  ratified.  On  the  30th,  Wellington  issued  his  last 
General  Order,  on  breaking  up  his  army.  After  commending  the 
good  conduct  of  his  troops,  in  their  camps  and  cantonments,  not 
less  than  in  the  field,  he  took  his  leave  of  them  in  these  words : 
“ Whatever  may  be  the  future  destination  of  those 
fercwenton’S  l>rave  troops,  of  which  the  Field  Marshal  now  takes 
his  leave,  he  trusts  that  every  individual  will  believe 
that  he  will  ever  feel  the  deepest  interest  in  their  honor  and  wel- 
fare, and  will  always  be  happy  to  promote  either.”  2 Their  des- 
tination was  never  more  to  be  the  battle-field  in  Europe.  That 
General  Order  was  issued  thirty-five  years  ago ; and  England  is 
still  at  Peace. 


1 Alison’s  History,  x.  p.  976. 


2 Despatches,  x.  p.  716. 


Chap.  X.] 


FULTON’S  STEAMBOAT. 


443 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  history  of  a people  during  a time  of  war  is  nearly  the 
same  with  the  history  of  the  war  and  its  effects.  There  is  lit  tie 
left  to  be  told  of  the  condition  of  the  English  people  between 
1800  and  1815. 

At  the  opening  of  the  century,  Messrs.  Boulton  and  Watt’s 
steam-engine  was  at  work  at  the  Mint,  and  found  steam 
capable  of  new  applications,  from  year  to  year.  The  navigation. 
Americans  discovered  one  application  which  has  proved  of  some 
importance  since,  and  which  will  mark  our  century  in  the  history 
of  the  arts  forever.  Just  before  the  opening  of  the  century,  a 
great  man  in  New  York,  Chancellor  Livingston,  obtained  from 
the  State  Legislature  an  exclusive  privilege  for  the  navigating 
of  boats  by  means  of  a steam-engine  on  board.  He  forfeited  his 
privilege  by  being  unable,  within  the  assigned  time,  to  impel  a 
boat  at  the  rate  of  four  miles  an  hour.  At  Paris,  however,  in 
1803,  the  thing  was  accomplished,  — Mr.  Livingston  having  there 
met  his  countryman,  Fulton,  who  was  ready  enough  to  try  the 
necessary  series  of  experiments.  Meantime,  Lord  Dundas  had 
been  encouraging  the  experiments  of  Symington  in  Scotland  ; 
and  in  1802,  a steam-tug,  with  Lord  Dundas  on  board,  towed 
two  loaded  vessels,  against  a strong  head- wind,  nineteen  miles  on 
the  Forth  and  Clyde  canal,  in  six  hours.  The  thing  was  cer- 
tainly done  before  Fulton  succeeded  in  his  Seine  voyage  in  1803. 
But  the  canal  proprietors  in  Scotland  feared  injury  to  the  canal 
banks;  and  Symington’s  boat  lay  idle  in  a creek,  while  Fulton 
obtained  engines  from  Boulton  and  Watt,  learned  everything 
about  the  Scotch  experiment,  and  carried  over  Birmingham 
workmen  to  fit  their  engine  to  his  boat  on  the  Hudson.  In 
1807,  the  success  was  complete.  In  America,  the  fuel  used  was 
a blazing  and  sparkling  pine  wood  ; and  for  a long  while,  the 
self-moving  vessel  was  an  object  of  horror  (by  night  especially) 
to  the  dwellers  on  the  interior  rivers,  and  to  the  pirates  who  hov- 
ered about  the  coast  in  war  time.  They  believed  that  the  mon- 
ster, braving  wind  and  tide,  and  spitting  fire,  was  sent  after  them, 
and  had  demons  for  her  crew.  In  our  country,  the  innovation 
was  a more  quiet  affair.  Mr.  Henry  Bell,  an  innkeeper  on  the 


414 


CHAIN  CABLES.  — STEAM-CARRIAGES.  [Book  II. 


Clyde,  built  a steam-passage-boat  in  1811,  marking  its  date  by 
calling  it  the  Comet,  after  the  great  comet  of  that  year ; and  to 
him  belongs  the  credit  of  having  first  made  steam  navigation 
practically  useful  in  our  island.  In  1816,  five  steamboats  were 
plying  on  the  Thames,  and  some  persons  had  adventurously  gone 
to  Margate  in  one.  Henry  Bell  died  in  indigence,  after  the  suc- 
cess of  his  great  experiment,  of  which  he  incurred  all  the  loss, 
while  the  world  has  ever  since  enjoyed  the  gain.  Fulton  died 
in  1815,  mainly  from  anxiety  of  mind,  from  disputes  havi  -2 
Death  of  arisen  about  his  patents.  Boulton  died  in  a serene 

Boulton.  old  age?  jn  August,  1809.  He  had  spent  47,000/.  on 

his  steam-engine  before  Watt  enabled  him  to  surmount  the  diffi- 
culties of  construction  which  intercepted  his  profits.  He  was  an 
inestimable  public  benefactor,  — promoting  among  us  the  arts  of 
peace  in  a dreary  season  of  war  ; and  there  was  everything  in 
his  private  character  that  could  deepen  admiration  into  respect 
and  affection. 

The  production  and  manufacture  of  iron  improved  much  in 
our  country  during  the  early  years  of  the  century ; 
ain  c es‘  and  we  observe  the  introduction  of  chain  cables  among 
the  new  inventions  of  the  time.  Architects  were  beginning  to 
think  about  Suspension  Bridges ; and  iron  chains  were  much 
under  notice.  A naval  commander  had  suggested,  so  long  ago 
as  1771,  that  if  he  had  had  iron  1 Oiw-C  2 Instead  of  hempen,  he 
should  not  have  lost  six  anchors  in  nine  days  — such  misfortune 
baying  befallen  him.  Chain  cables  were  never  fairly  brought 
into  use  till  after  1808.  From  that  time  to  1814,  the  difficulty 
of  obtaining  hemp  from  abroad  settled  the  matter.  Chains  were 
soon  used,  not  only  for  cables,  but  for  various  parts  of  the  rigging 
of  ships. 

We  see,  in  1802,  an  experiment  tried,  in  London  and  else- 
steam-  where,  of  fitting  a little  steam-engine  to  a carriage  ; 

carriages.  the  trial  failing  from  the  badness  of  the  roads.  Soon 

after,  we  find  a gentleman  winning  wagers  as  to  the  amount  of 
weight  that  a horse  can  draw,  on  an  iron  tram-way.  And  next, 
we  see  that  it  had  entered  some  heads  to  put  the  two  things 
together,  — the  steam-carriage  and  the  iron  way ; and  the  pro- 
jectors, Messrs.  Trevithick  and  Vivian,  had  the  satisfaction  of 
obtaining  complete  success.  Society  acted  as  usual,  however. 
We  remember  the  sage  look  with  which  an  old  man  shook  his 
head  over  an  explosion,  in  the  first  days  of  steam  navigation  on 
rivers,  saying  it  was  no  use  telling  him  that  steam  did  all  that ; 
and  now,  those  who  saw  these  steam-carriages  draw  a vast 
weight,  along  the  iron  rails  at  Merthyr  Tydvil,  were  confident 
that  the  speed  was  all  owing  to  the  smoothness,  and  that  steam 
had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  They  cried  for  cumbersome  additions 


Chap.  X.]  COUNT  RUMFORD.—  NEW  INSTITUTIONS.  445 


of  racks  and  cog-wheels,  chains,  mechanical  legs,  &c.  But  the 
steam  had  fairly  begun  to  rise  ; and  it  has  gone  on  expanding  to 
this  day. 

When  the  century  opened,  the  arts  and  conveniences  of  house- 
hold life  were  improving  remarkably,  under  the  in-  count  Rum- 
structions  of  an  ingenious  and  benevolent  man,  to  ford- 
whom,  as  it  happened,  four  nations  were  under  obligations. 
Count  Rumford  was  born  in  America,  and  was  an  active  citizen 
till  after  the  War  of  Independence.  He  accomplished  a mag- 
nificent task  in  Bavaria,  in  abolishing  mendicity,  while  the  state 
was  fast  going  to  ruin  from  its  beggars.  He  came  to  England, 
and  let  the  people  have  the  benefit  of  his  discoveries  in  regard 
to  nutrition  in  diet  and  economy  of  fuel.  He  went  to  France 
in  1802,  and  married  the  widow  of  Lavoisier,  the  great  chemist ; 
and  in  France  he  died,  in  1814.  While  he  was  among  us,  the 
English  were  isolated  in  other  respects  than  their  territory. 
They  were  cut  off  by  war  from  intercourse  with  continental  na- 
tions, and  from  observation  of  their  arts  of  life.  There  can  be 
no  question  of  the  improvement  of  society  in  economy  and  com- 
fort, after  the  lessons  of  Count  Rumford  had  been  spread  over 
the  land,  and  his  devices  had  become  a fashion  among  those 
classes  which  set  an  example  to  the  rest. 

The  first  stone  of  the  great  Breakwater,  at  Plymouth,  was 
lowered  on  the  Regent’s  birthday,  (12th  of  August,)  Plymouth 
1812.  This  vast  work,  which  has  proved  an  effectual  Breakwater, 
protection  to  the  harbor  of  Plymouth,  is  a heap  of  loose  stones, 
nearly  a mile  in  length,  42  feet  in  average  height,  and  of  a 
breadth  at  the  base  variously  reported  from  210  to  360  feet.  It 
was  one  of  the  greatest  works  undertaken  during  the  war.  — An 
institution,  which  owed  its  origin  directly  to  the  war,  Chelsea 
was  founded  during  this  period.  In  1801,  the  first  Hospital, 
stone  of  the  Royal  Military  Asylum  at  Chelsea  was  laid,  in  the 
presence  of  the  Duke  of  York  and  some  of  the  Ministers ; and 
coins  and  medals,  commemorative  of  our  victories,  were  buried 
under  the  stone.  — In  1806,  the  India  Directors  received  their 
College  Committee  at  the  India  House,  and  all  pro-  Haiieybury 
ceeded  to  Haileybury,  near  Hertford,  where  the  first  College, 
stone  was  laid  of  the  new  College,  whence  so  many  of  the  pro- 
vincial rulers  and  civil  servants  of  our  great  oriental  empire  have 
since  gone  forth,  to  promote  or  injure  the  welfare  of  a hundred 
millions  of  men. 

One  of  the  controversies  of  the  period  was  about  the  use  of 
tea ; and  many  vehement  controversies  have  been  Tea 
about  a smaller  matter.  The  time  had  been,  in  the 
preceding  century,  when  the  duty  on  tea  had  been  reduced ; and 
the  consequence  was,  the  doubling  of  the  consumption  in  the  first 


446 


TEA.— JOINT-STOCK  BREAD  COMPANY.  [Book  U 


year,  and  its  being  quadrupled  in  the  third  year.  Twenty  years 
after  that  date  (1787)  the  consumption  of  tea  had  increased  very 
little.  It  was  then  only  about  one  pound  a head  of  the  popula- 
tion, per  year.1  Yet  the  u Annual  Register  ” speaks  in  prodig- 
ious delight  of  “the  amazing  extent”  to  which  the  consumption 
of  tea  now  reached.  The  common  sorts  of  tea  were,  in  those 
days  of  excessive  taxation,  charged  with  an  excise  duty  of  90 
per  cent. ; yet  the  people  chose  to  have  tea  ; or  so  many  of  them 
that  Cobbett  thundered  forth  denunciations  against  the  drink  as 
unreasonable,  and  almost  as  violent,  as  any  Puritan  divine  ever 
uttered  against  love-locks  or  top-knots.  He  assured  h;s  readers 
that  tea-drinking  cost  a cottager’s  family  above  11/.  a year; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  he  would  fain  have  made  out  that  beer 
cost  next  to  nothing.  In  noticing  a subsequent  outbreak  of  Cob- 
bett’s  against  tea,  an  Edinburgh  reviewer  agreed  with  him  to  an 
extent  that  is  hardly  credible  now.  He  disbelieved  in  any  virtue 
in  the  tea  itself,2  and  concluded  the  laborer,  at  his  morning  and 
evening  meal,  to  be  solaced  with  the  warmth  of  the  water,  and 
the  sweetness  of  the  sugar.  If  it  had  been  so,  we  should  have 
ceased  to  hear  of  tea  among  the  working  classes  by  this  time ; 
whereas  there  is  no  longer  any  question  about  its  beneficial  effects 
on  the  health  of  nq^ons  engaged  in  sedentary  occupations,  and 
in  superseding  the  use  of  strong  drinks.  At  the  opening  of  the 
century,  intemperance  in  drink  was  very  prevalent  among  the 
higher  classes ; and  it  had  to  descend  through  the  whole  grada- 
tion before  it  could  go  out  at  the  lower : but  the  rapidity  of  the 
amendment,  on  the  whole,  is  very  remarkable ; and  there  can  be 
no  question  that  much  of  it  is  owing  to  the  increased  use  of  tea 
and  coffee.  The  tea  duties  are  still  sadly  too  high  ; but,  great 
as  has  been  the  increase  of  the  population,  the  consumption 
appears  now  to  have  reached  an  annual  average  of  1^  lb.  a 
head. 

A remarkable  trial  catches  the  eye  in  the  records  of  1809.3  In 
the  name  of  the  King,  a prosecution  was  carried  on  against  some 
joint-stock  Persons  who  had  formed  themselves  into  a Company, 
Bread  Com-  for  the  purpose  of  relieving  the  town  of  Birmingham 
pany‘  from  the  evils  of  a scanty  supply  of  flour  and  bread, 

and  of  a gross  adulteration  of  both.  The  millers  and  bakers 
promoted  the  prosecution,  complaining  of  the  Association  as  be- 
ing injurious  to  their  interests,  and  therefore  illegal.  The  jury 
were  required  by  the  judge  to  pronounce  on  certain  points,  which 
were  then  to  be  submitted  to  the  Court  of  King’s  Bench  for  an 
opinion  : and  the  jury  found  that  the  object  of  the  Company  was 

1 Porter’s  Progress,  sec.  v.  chap.  4. 

2 Edinburgh  Review,  xxxviii.  p.  111. 

8 Annual  Register,  1809.  Chron.  p.  375. 


Chap.  X.]  THE  LITERARY  FUND  SOCIETY. 


447 


laudable  ; that  the  town  had  been  much  benefited  by  the  abun- 
dant supply  of  good  flour  and  bread  afforded,  in  the  way  of  trade, 
by  the  Company  ; and  that  the  private  interests  of  the  millers  and 
bakers  had  suffered  under  the  improvement.  A good  deal  of 
speculation  and  argument  seems  to  have  been  excited,  at  the 
time,  by  the  contest  between  the  associated  and  the  isolated 
capitalists. 

We  find  bear-baiting  familiarly  mentioned  among  the  sports  of 
the  times.  Much  that  has  been  already  told  proves  National 
that  there  was  a savagery  about  the  temper  of  the  peo-  isolation 
pie,  which  showed  fcself  in  an  extraordinary  ferocity  of  crime. 
The  popular  amusements  had  something  of  the  same  character 
in  them.  But  it  was  not  to  be  for  long.  Peace  was  coming ; and 
with  it,  opportunities  for  learning  much  of  the  minds  of  foreign 
nations.  It  will  be  our  business  hereafter  to  show  how  the  pleas- 
ures of  art  and  the  intellect  have  become  open  to  the  great  body 
of  the  people,  and  how  humanizing  has  been  the  influence  of  the 
change.  Here  we  have  only  to  note  that  we  are  taking  leave 
of  the  long  period  of  national  isolation,  under  which  strong  pas- 
sions, and  stiff  prejudices,  and  coarse  manners  and  amusements, 
were  fostered,  and  men  suffered  more  than  by  any  palpable  hard- 
ships occasioned  by  the  war. 

In  our  state  of  prejudice,  during  these  years,  nothing  French 
found  any  favor  with  us.  A barbarous  jargon,  called  Foreign 
the  French  language,  was  taught  in  schools,  — taught  literature, 
by  emigrants  who  might  be  able  to  speak  very  well,  but  who  had 
never  qualified  themselves  for  the  art  of  teaching.  If  a sound 
knowledge  of  the  language  was  rare,  much  more  so  was  an  ac- 
quaintance  with  French  literature.  We  do  not,  even  now,  under- 
stand the  French,  nor  truly  relish  their  literature.  But  the  Ger- 
man was  entering  and  spreading,  and  finding  great  acceptance 
among  us ; and  the  character  of  our  literature  of  this  century 
may  be  said  to  be  transmuted  by  it.  It  was  the  spirit  of  German 
literature  that  determined  the  forms  in  which  Coleridge,  Words- 
worth, Scott,  and  many  others,  thought  and  uttered  themselves. 
All  these  three  had  published,  and  become  known,  at  the  end 
of  the  last  century ; and  they  went  on,  rising  in  reputation,  dur- 
ing the  war  period.  It  was  in  1814  that  “ Waverley  ” was  pub- 
lished. The  Literary  Fund  Society,  not  yet  incorpo-  The  Literary 
rated,  having  been  founded  only  in  1797,  was  munifi-  Fund- 
cently  patronized  by  the  Prince  of  Wales.  Its  object  was  then 
as  now,  to  extend  assistance  to  suffering  authors  and  men  of  let- 
ters. In  1805,  we  find  the  Prince  acting  as  President,  recom- 
mending the  purchase  of  a good  house  for  the  transaction  of 
business,  and  subscribing  200/.  a year  for  the  purpose.  He  was, 
at  that  time,  associating  much  with  literary  men  ; as  his  father 


448  THE  EDINBURGH  REVIEW.  [Book  II. 

was  with  musicians.  The  King  attended  the  Concerts  of  Ancient 
Music  Music  as  long  as  he  could  appear  at  all  in  public ; and 

those  were  the  days  when  Catalani  turned  the  heads 
of  London,  and  of  all  England  where  she  appeared.  The  Phil- 
harmonic Society  was  a little  too  late  for  the  poor  King.  It  was 
in  1813  that  it  was  founded;  and,  by  that  time,  all  the  music  he 
heard  must  be  within  the  walls  of  Windsor  Castle.  The  Regent 
did  not  patronize  music  as  his  father  had  done.  He  went  as  lit 
tie  as  possible  where  he  was  likely  to  meet  his  family,  and  he 
disliked  appearing  in  public  at  all.  Such  countenance  as  he  gave 
to  the  intellectual  improvement  of  his  time  was  in  the  direction 
of  patronage  of  men  of  letters.  The  great  contribution  of  that 
period  to  literature  was,  however,  one  with  which  the  patronage 
of  the  great  had  nothing  to  do. 

“ To  appreciate  the  value  of  the  4 Edinburgh  Review,’  ” says  he 
The  Edin-  w^10  sugges^e(^  “ the  state  of  England,  at  the  period 
burgh  Re-  when  that  Journal  began,  should  be  had  in  remem- 
brance.1 The  Catholics  were  not  emancipated  — the 
Corporation  and  Test  Acts  were  not  repealed  — the  Game 
Laws  were  horribly  oppressive  — Steel  Traps  and  Spring  Guns 
were  set  all  over  the  country  — prisoners  tried  for  their  lives 
could  have  no  counsel  — Lord  Eldon  and  the  Court  of  Chancery 
pressed  heavily  upon  mankind  — Libel  was  punished  by  the 
most  cruel  and  vindictive  imprisonments  — the  principles  of 
Political  Economy  were  little  understood  — the  laws  of  Debt 
and  of  Conspiracy  were  on  the  worst  possible  footing  — the 
enormous  wickedness  of  the  Slave-Trade  was  tolerated  — a 
thousand  evils  were  in  existence,  which  the  talents  of  good  and 
able  men  have  since  lessened  or  removed ; and  these  effects  have 
been  not  a little  assisted  by  the  honest  boldness  of  the  4 Edin- 
burgh Review.’  ....  From  the  beginning  of  the  century  to 
the  death  of  Lord  Liverpool,  was  an  awful  period  for  those  who 

had  the  misfortune  to  entertain  liberal  opinions It  is 

always  considered  as  a piece  of  impertinence,  in  England,  if*  a 
man  of  less  than  two  or  three  thousand  a year  has  any  opinions  at 
all  upon  important  subjects  ; and  in  addition,  he  was  sure  at  that 
time  to  be  assailed  with  all  the  Billingsgate  of  the  French 
Revolution, — Jacobin,  Leveller,  Atheist,  Deist,  Socinian,  Incen- 
diary, Regicide,  were  the  gentlest  appellations  used ; and  the 
man  who  breathed  a syllable  against  the  senseless  bigotry  of 
the  Georges,  or  hinted  at  the  abominable  tyranny  and  persecu- 
tion exercised  upon  Catholic  Ireland,  was  shunned  as  unfit  for 
the  relations  of  social  life.”  In  such  times,  and  at  the  risk  of 
every  kind  of  political  and  social  failure,  a set  of  young  Whigs 
— Sydney  Smith,  Jeffrey,  Brougham,  Murray,  Horner,  and  a few 
1 Sydney  Smith’s  Works.  Preface. 


Chap.  X.] 


THE  WRITINGS  OF  BENTHAM 


449 


others — set  on  foot  the  “Edinburgh  Review,”  in  1802.  Its 
success  was  great  and  immediate.  Neither  its  authors  nor  the 
public  then  perceived  how  false  and  dangerous  is  the  very  prin- 
ciple of  such  a work,  — of  a small  established  corps  of  men 
undertaking  to  pronounce  on  works  in  regard  to  each  one  of 
which  the  reviewer  is,  probably,  less  competent  than  the  author, 
who  is  most  likely  to  know  more  of  his  subject  than  those  who 
have  studied  it  less.  The  failure  to  perceive  this,  and  the  viru- 
lence of  tone  natural  to  young  men  who  felt  themselves  under  a 
political  and  social  ban,  made  the  great  Review  a receptacle  of 
unjust  judgments  and  indefensible  tempers.  “ I remember,” 
Sydney  Smith  used  to  say,  in  speaking  of  a work  of  that  day, 
“ how  Brougham  and  I sat  one  evening  over  our  review  of  that 
book,  looking  whether  there  was  a chink  or  a crevice  through 
which  we  could  drop  one  more  drop  of  verjuice.”  This  was, 
no  doubt,  a playful  exaggeration ; but  it  described  too  well  the 
spirit  of  the  work  in  its  first  days.  Reviews  were  more  regarded 
by  the  public,  and  more  felt  by  authors,  then  than  now,  when 
their  real  authority  is  better  understood ; and  it  is  to  be  feared 
that  much  tyranny  was  inflicted  by  these  young  advocates  of 
freedom  of  opinion,  and  much  needless  pain  inflicted  by  these 
denouncers  of  oppression : but  substantial  service  was  rendered 
to  many  a good  public  cause,  and  a new  department  of  literature 
may  be  said  to  have  been  opened  in  Great  Britain.  — In  1809 
the  “ Quarterly  Review  ” was  set  up,  as  the  organ  of  The  Quar_ 
the  Tory  party.  Its  political  virulence  was  extreme  ; teriy  Re- 
and  it  has  continued  so  to  this  day  ; but  it  deserves  view' 
immortalizing  for  the  beauty  of  its  literary  articles.  Both  had. 
at  one  time,  a vast  circulation  ; and  if  they  did  mischief  in  en- 
slaving opinion  on  literary  matters,  and  in  saving  the  reading 
public  the  salutary  trouble  of  thought,  they  did  great  service  in 
encouraging  literary  pursuit,  and  in  opening  large  resources  of 
intellectual  profit  and  pleasure  to  the  reading  public.  Their 
eminent  success  showed  that  they  met  an  existing  want. 

During  this  period,  Bentham  was  propounding  his  benevolent 
plans  for  the  reformation  of  prisoners,  his  rational 
projects  for  Law  reform,  and  his  finely-felt,  but  shal-  Bentham- 
low  and  narrow  system  of  Mental  and  Social  Philosophy.  His 
proposed  Law  reforms  won  for  him  the  veneration  of  foreign 
nations  ; a veneration  which  we  still  feel  to  be  due,  though  a 
very  little  experience  of  life  and  affairs  is  enough  to  show  that 
Codification  is  impracticable,  and  above  all  for  peoples  of  old 
standing,  whose  past  circumstances  make  their  present  condition. 
We  now  know  that  Constitutions  must  grow  up,  and  cannot  be 
successfully  imposed.  In  his  paper  Constitutions,  the  benevolent 
recluse  failed ; but  no  man  was  more  acute  in  exposing  legisla- 
von.  i.  29 


450 


PROGRESS  OF  SCIENCE. 


[Book  IL 


tive  faults,  and  proposing  the  true  principles  on  which  remedy 
should  proceed ; and  to  him  we  owe,  primarily,  a large  propor- 
tion of  the  legislative  and  social  reforms  of  the  half-century. 
His  Utilitarian  Philosophy  will  not  stand  by  itself,  though  it  has 
been  a valuable  check  on  the  selfishness  of  power,  and  an  in- 
estimable assertion  of  the  rights  of  the  depressed.  The  philos- 
opher may  truly  object,  “ you  can  never  make  a hero  of  a man 
by  showing  him  that  it  is  either  useful  or  agreeable  ; ” but  while 
we  smile  at  Bentham  as  a Mental  Philosopher,  we  are  all  living 
and  acting  under  the  influence  of  his  aspiration  for  “ the  greatest 
happiness  of  the  greatest  number.”  During  this  period,  he  was 
hard  at  work  for  that  “ greatest  happiness,”  without  any  personal 
aims,  in  a life  of  the  simplest  habits,  and  in  the  peace  of  an 
unruffled  benignity. 

Herschel  was,  at  the  same  time,  revealing  many  new  wonders 
Science  heavens  5 and  Davy  enlarging  the  bounds  of 

science  ; and  Dalton  announcing  the  Atomic  Theory  ; 
and  Wollaston  aiding  him  to  develop  and  establish  it;  and 
Leslie  letting  the  world  into  the  secret  of  the  nature  and  prop- 
Cavendish  er^es  Heat.  At  this  time,  too,  Cavendish  died. 

Davy  said  at  the  time  that  this  was  the  greatest  loss 
the  scientific  world  had  sustained  since  the  death  of  Newton. 
Others  have  pointed  out  that  before  him  were  alchemists  and 
after  him  speculative  inquirers,  while  he  laid  down  a mathemat- 
ical basis  for  chemical  inquiry,  and  proceeded  upon  it.  His  habit 
of  thought  was  formed  on  the  study  of  the  Newtonian  philoso- 
phy ; and  nothing  that  he  did  was  left  doubtful  or  imperfect : a 
wonderful  fact,  considering  the  empirical  character  of  chemical 
pursuit  when  he  began  to  publish,  in  1766.  Cavendish  was  the 
first  discoverer  of  the  gases  as  such  ; he  first  analyzed  water. 
He  instituted  the  beautiful  experiment  by  which  the  density  of 
the  earth  is  believed  to  have  been  accurately  determined.  On 
this  work,  he  and  Maskelyne  (an  admirable  observer)  were  in 
communication ; and  the  astronomer  put  Cavendish’s  results  to 
the  test.  Cavendish  was  as  much  of  an  astronomer  as  a chemist, 
and  wrote  on  the  division  of  astronomical  instruments,  and  on 
the  civil  year  of  the  Hindoos.  He  was  in  truth  a mathematician, 
carrying  his  science  forward  in  one  department  to  which  it  wa3 
native,  and  in  another  where  it  was  almost  a stranger,  and  very 
much  wanted.  He  was  of  high  birth,  and  died  prodigiously  rich. 
He  lived  the  life  of  a student,  unmarried  and  secluded.  His 
writings  are  to  be  found  in  the  Philosophical  Transactions  be- 
tween 1766  and  1809.  They  are  few,  but  were  of  inestimable 
value  in  their  day.  He  was  79  when  he  died,  in  February, 
1810.  Maskelyne  died  at  the  same  age,  a year  later, 
— in  February,  1811.  He  had  been  Astronomer  Royal 


Maskelyne. 


Chap.  X.]  DUKE  OF  BRIDGEWATER.  — MYLNE. 


451 


for  forty-six  years.  He  was  a clergyman,  but  devoted  his  days 
to  science.  Except  to  test  Cavendish’s  ascertainment  of  the 
density  of  the  earth  by  experiments  on  a Scotch  mountain,  he 
scarcely  left  home  from  the  time  he  became  Astronomer  Royal. 
A voyage  in  earlier  days  showed  him  the  wants  of  nautical 
astronomy;  and  out  of  this  observation  grew  the  “Nautical 
Almanac,”  which  he  superintended  as  long  as  he  lived.  He  was 
the  first  who  gave  the  world  a standard  catalogue  of  stars ; and 
he  did  this  in  1790.  His  scientific  reputation  abroad  was  very 
high ; and  it  was  well  sustained  by  the  virtues  of  his  character. 

The  great  Duke  of  Bridgewater  belonged  in  age  to  the  last 
century ; but  his  grand  achievement  extends  through 
our  own.  He  was  the  “ Father  of  British  Inland  Bridgewater. 
Navigation,”  and  by  that  title  he  will  ever  be  known. 

He  wanted  to  bring  coal  from  his  Worsley  estate  to  Manchester. 
He  devised  a canal  for  the  purpose  ; and  he  met  with  an  ad- 
mirable coadjutor  in  Brindley,  the  engineer.  They  supported 
each  other,  and  wrought  well  together ; and  by  their  harmonious 
action  they  exhibited  to  the  wondering  people  of  England  a 
navigable  aqueduct,  crossing  the  Irwell  at  a height  of  thirty- 
nine  feet  from  the  river.  An  engineer  who  was  invited  to  give 
his  opinion  on  the  scheme,  said  that  he  had  often  heard  of  castles 
in  the  air,  but  had  never  before  seen  their  proposed  site.  He 
saw  this  river  in  the  air,  however,  with  coal-barges  upon  it. 
The  mere  employment  of  labor  and  creation  of  wealth  by  the 
Duke  of  Bridgewater  were  enormous.  His  return  to  the  income 
tax  was  110,000/.  a year;  and  a wide  region  was  filled  by  him 
with  busy  industry : but  a yet  higher  service  was  the  impulse 
given  to  practical  science,  and  the  example  of  noble  scientific 
enterprise.  The  Duke  died  in  March,  1803,  when  his  canal  had 
been  in  use  somewhat  more  than  forty  years.  — Among  the  coins 
buried  in  the  foundation-stone  of  Blackfriars  Bridge,  is 
a silver  medal,  the  most  cherished  possession  of  him  Mylne‘ 
who  here  bestowed  it.  It  was  the  medal  given  by  the  Academy 
at  Rome  to  the  young  architect,  Mylne,  who  was  to  build  the 
bridge.  He  was  impeded  at  the  outset  of  his  great  work  by 
Dr.  Johnson’s  obstinate  convictions  that  Mylne’s  arches  could  not 
stand.  There  was  a grand  controversy  at  the  time  ; but  it  was 
decided  in  favor  of  the  young  man  against  the  great  doctor ; and 
Johnson  and  Mylne  became  at  length  intimate  friends.  The 
bridge  is  not  all  we  owe  to  Mylne.  It  was  he  who  suggested 
the  noblest  epitaph  that  ever  stirred  the  hearts  of  succeeding 
generations.  He  it  was  who  proposed,  when  Surveyor  of  St. 
Paul’s  in  the  place  once  held  by  Wren,  the  inscription  in  honor 
of  his  predecessor,  “ Si  monumentum  requires,  circumspice.” 
He  was  buried  near  Wren,  in  May,  1811. 


452 


DEATH  OF  ARTISTS  AND  AUTHORS.  [Book  II. 


The  artists  and  authors  who  died  within  this  period  were  those 
of  the  last  century  : — Boydell,  himself  a poor  en- 
graver, but  the  grand  promoter  of  the  art  of  engraving 
in  England  ; — Morland  the  great  painter  of  domestic  animals  ; 

— Barry,  the  protege  of  Burke,  and  painter  of  the  six  pictures 
in  the  great  room  of  the  Society  of  Arts  in  the  Adelphi,  one  of 
which  Canova  said  he  would  have  come  to  England  to  see,  if 
there  had  been  nothing  else  to  look  at ; — Opie,  the  Cornish  boy, 
who  painted  portraits  in  a style  of  his  own  which  had  enough  of 
genius  to  make  him  an  eminent  artist  in  spite  of  deficiencies  of 
education ; — Hoppner,  who  might  have  approached  nearer  to 
Reynolds  in  fame,  if  he  had  worshipped  and  imitated  him  less  ; 

— and  De  Loutherbourg,  a native  of  Strasburg,  but  a Royal 
Academician,  who  produced  good  pictures  in  various  styles, 
raised  the  art  of  scene-painting  by  what  he  did  at  the  Opera 
House,  and  was  the  inventor  of  that  kind  of  pictorial  exhibition 
which  now  goes  by  the  name  of  the  Diorama  : — these  artists  of 
the  earlier  part  of  the  reign  of  George  III.  all  died  between  the 
years  1804  and  1812. 

The  authors  had,  also,  for  the  most  part  done  their  work  when 
the  century  began.  There  was  Brand,  the  author  of 

Authors  » ^ ^ ^ 

“ Popular  Antiquities  ; ” — and  the  aged  Home,  author 
of  the  tragedy  of  “ Douglas.”  The  tragedy  was  at  first  refused 
by  Garrick ; and  then,  when  it  succeeded  in  Edinburgh,  it 
brought  such  a storm  of  persecution  upon  its  author,  from  the 
scandal  of  a clergyman  writing  a play,  that  Mr.  Home  dropped 
his  clerical  character,  and  was  regarded  as  a layman  for  the  rest 
of  his  long  life.  Then  there  was  Richard  Cumberland,  author 
of  “ The  West  Indian  ; ” — and  Bishop  Percy,  who  collected 
the  “ Reliques  of  Ancient  English  Poetry  ; ” — and  Grahame, 
author  of  the  once  popular  poem  of  “ The  Sabbath  ; ” — and 
Pye  the  Laureate,  whose  poetry  died  before  him ; — and  Dibdin, 
the  song- writer  ; — and  Dr.  Burney,  the  historian  of  Music,  but 
much  better  known  as  the  father  of  the  charming  Fanny  Burney, 
whose  honors  belong  to  the  last  century : — these  died,  most 
of  them  above  the  age  of  eighty,  between  the  years  1806  and 
1814.  De  Lolme  was  a Swiss  by  birth  ; but  his  great  work  on 
the  English  Constitution  entitles  us  to  reckon  him  among  our 
losses.  He  died,  at  the  age  of  sixty-two,  in  1807.  Porson,  the 
great  Grecian,  died,  untimely,  in  1808.  He  was  Professor  of 
Greek  in  the  University  of  Cambridge,  and  was  considered  the 
first  critic  and  Greek  scholar  of  his  time.  He  is  best  known 
now  by  his  traditional  reputation,  by  his  admitted  invalidation  of 
the  text  of  the  Three  Heavenly  Witnesses,  in  answer  to  Arch- 
deacon Travis,  and  by  his  editions  of  some  of  the  Greek  poets. 

The  clergy  of  the  last  century  were  not  merely  clergymen. 


Chap.  X.J  HURD. -HORNE  TOOKE.  — PALEY.  453 

Not  only  were  they  scholars  ; but  some  were  men  of  science, 
and  many  were  politicians.  Horsley,  who  died  Bishop 
of  St.  Asaph,  in  October,  1806,  was  a man  of  sci-  Horsley‘ 
ence,  but  is  better  known  as  a fierce  polemic  and  a high  Tory 
alarmist.  His  hatred  of  dissenters  and  his  horror  of  Roman 
Catholics  led  him  into  intemperance  of  speech  in  parliament  and 
through  the  press ; but  those  of  his  friends  who  regretted  that 
he  should  go  quite  so  far,  still  considered  him  a strong  pillar  of 
the  Church  and  State  ; and  he  may  be  regarded  as  a fair  speci- 
men of  the  political  and  polemical  bishop  of  the  last  century. 
— Hurd,  Bishop  of  Worcester,  was  a philologist ; and 
his  days  were  passed  chiefly  in  literary  pursuits.  He 
was  tutor,  however,  to  the  Prince  of  Wales  and  Duke  of  York  ; 
and  he  pleased  the  King  so  well  that  he  might  have  become 
Primate  on  the  death  of  Archbishop  Cornwallis ; but  he  pre- 
ferred a post  of  more  leisure  for  literary  pursuits.  Bishop  Hurd 
died  in  May,  1808. — John  Horne  Tooke  was  a clergy-  John  Horne 
man,  given  much  to  philology  and  to  politics.  His  Tooke* 
clerical  character  (which  he  thought  he  had  laid  down  with  his 
living  in  1773)  is  so  completely  merged  in  other  aspects  of  the 
man,  that  it  would  not  be  remembered  but  for  the  incident 
which  connects  him  with  our  century.  In  the  last  century,  he 
was  imprisoned  and  fined  for  libel ; and  he  was  then  in  a manner 
driven  into  political  life  by  the  refusal  of  the  Benchers  to  admit 
him  to  the  bar,  on  the  ground  of  his  being  a clergyman.  He 
was  tried  for  high  treason,  in  1794,  chiefly  on  account  of  his 
connection  with  the  Constitutional  Society.  After  a trial  of  six 
days  he  was  acquitted.  With  the  beginning  of  the  new  century 
he  entered  parliament ; but  it  seemed  as  if  he  was  never  to  hear 
the  last  of  his  having  taken  orders  in  his  early  days.  An  Act 
of  Parliament  was  passed  during  the  few  months  that  he  was  in 
the  House,  enacting  that  no  one  in  priests’  orders  could  become 
a member  of  the  House  of  Commons.1  This  is  a remarkable 
change  from  the  times  when  the  priests  were  the  makers  and 
administrators  of  such  laws  as  existed.  Next  to  his  political  acts 
and  sufferings,  Mr.  Tooke  is  best  known  by  his  entertaining 
philological  work,  “ The  Diversions  of  Purley.”  He  died  in 
March,  1812,  in  the  77th  year  of  his  age. 

One  of  the  Cambridge  men  who  opposed  Horne  Tooke’s  hav- 
ing his  degree  in  1771  was  Paley,  then  a tutor  in  the 
University.  Paley  died  first,  in  1805,  having  distin-  aey‘ 
guished  himself  in  a very  different  line.  He  was  too  clear  and 
strong  an  advocate  of  the  principles  of  liberty  and  the  rights  of 
conscience  to  have  any  chance,  in  those  days,  of  high  preferment ; 
and  he  rose  no  higher  in  the  church  than  the  sub-deanery  of  Lin- 
1 Political  Dictionary,  i.  p.  520. 


454  GRANVILLE  SHARP.— LOR])  MACARTNEY.  [Book  II 


coin.  He  was  a clear-headed  man,  who  could  say  at  will  exactly 
what  he  thought ; and  that  talent,  at  a time  when  the  solemn 
pomposity  of  Johnson’s  imitators  began  to  be  wearisome,  ob- 
tained for  Paley  a reputation  as  a thinker,  which  the  lapse  of 
half  a century  has  shown  to  be  very  far  beyond  his  deserts.  He 
was  clear,  but  not  deep  ; strong,  but  not  comprehensive  ; orderly, 
but  not  elevated.  The  subjects  he  attempted  — as  in  his  Moral 
and  Political  Philosophy,  his  Evidences  of  Christianity,  and  his 
Natural  Theology — were  too  deep  and  too  high  for  his  order  of 
intellect ; and,  though  the  charms  of  his  manner  and  the  clear- 
ness of  his  method  secured  a long  term  of  popularity  for  these 
works,  the  higher  and  larger  thought  of  men  since  born  has  made 
us  wonder  at  the  acceptance  so  long  given  to  Paley’s  inadequate 
definitions,  loose  reasonings,  and  low  moral  propositions.  Utility 
and  expediency  are  his  universal  solvent;  and  the  method  of 
their  application  in  the  philosophy  and  practice  of  Morals,  Poli- 
tics, Society,  and  Ecclesiastic  matters,  seems  as  uncertain  as  the 
principle  is  loose  and  questionable.  They  accord  but  too  well 
with  his  own  celebrated  saying,  in  regard  to  profession  of  relig- 
ious belief  — that  he  “ could  not  afford  to  keep  a conscience.” 
Dr.  Paley  died,  as  has  been  said,  very  early  in  the  century ; but 
his  works  exercised  till  lately  so  strong  an  influence  over  the 
minds  of  statesmen,  divines,  and  educators,  that  he  may  be  con- 
sidered as  belonging  to  our  own  time,  as  well  as  to  the  preced- 
ing half-century. 

An  actual  loss  to  the  existing  generation  was  when  Granville 
Granville  Sharp  died  — old  as  he  was.  He  was  in  his  79th 

Sharp.  year  at  his  death  in  July,  1813.  It  was  he  who 

brought  to  trial  the  question  whether  slavery  could  exist  in 
Great  Britain ; and  it  was  he  who  instituted  the  Society  for  the 
abolition  of  the  Slave-trade.  In  all  the  questions  of  his  time 
which  largely  involved  the  principle  of  humanity,  he  was  before 
all  others  in  activity.  He  was  a fine  scholar,  and  a man  of  inno- 
cent life  and  benevolent  manners.  Even  the  Clarksons  and  Wil- 
berforces  could  hardly  go  beyond  the  general  sorrow  at  his  death. 

Lord  Macartney  died  in  1806,  after  having  filled  various  pub- 
Lord  lie  offices,  the  chief  of  which  was  that  of  British  Am- 

Macartney.  bassador  to  China.  Our  first  diplomatic  relations  with 

the  Court  of  Pekin  were  attempted  by  him.  Little  was  done,  in 
the  way  of  political  business,  beyond  ascertaining  that  nothing 
could  then  be  done.  But  some  notices  of  China  were  opened  to 
us  by  Lord  Macartney  and  his  friend  Sir  G.  Staunton,  who  pub- 
lished an  account  of  the  embassy  and  its  adventures.  — A far 
deeper  interest  was  felt  in  a traveller  who  disclosed  to 
ungo  ar  . ug  something  more,  about  a country  of  yet  deeper  mys- 
tery. The  self-will  and  antique  customs  (become  a second  na- 


Chap.  X.]  EXPLORATIONS  OF  MUNGO  PARK. 


455 


ture)  of  the  Chinese  have  fenced  in  their  country  from  our  ob- 
servation ; but  it  was  a set  of  impediments  beyond  the  power  of 
man  to  set  up  or  pull  down  that  had  concealed  from  us  the  inte- 
rior of  Africa.  Mungo  Park,  a young  Scotch  surgeon,  was 
unwilling  to  acquiesce  in  the  prohibition  given  by  nature  herself. 
He  had  tasted  the  pleasures  of  travel  in  a professional  voyage 
to  the  eastern  seas ; and  when  he  returned,  in  1794,  Major  Pen- 
nell had  enabled  the  African  Association  to  publish  such  infor- 
mation as  existed  about  the  interior  of  Africa.  There  was  much 
desire  for  more  knowledge  about  the  course  of  the  Niger. 
Major  Houghton  had  gone  to  seek  it,  and  had  perished.  Park 
would  go  — aware  as  he  was  of  the  hardships  and  dangers  to  be 
encountered.  He  set  off  in  May,  1795.  To  the  surprise  of  every 
one,  and  after  he  had  been  given  over  for  lost,  he  returned  ; and 
in  1799,  he  published  those  travels  which  have  since  been  famil- 
iar to  all  readers  of  each  generation.  When,  in  1803,  he  was 
invited  by  government  to  go  again  — this  time  in  command  of 
an  expedition  — -he  eagerly  accepted  the  appointment.  He  sailed 
in  January,  1805,  and  did  not  live  to  see  another  year.  His 
comrades  perished  by  disease  in  the  rainy  season,  so  that  only 
three  of  the  whole  party  of  forty-four  were  living  when  the  rains 
ceased.  It  was  many  years  before  any  knowledge  of  the  fate 
of  Park  was  obtained ; and  even  now,  when  we  know  the  time 
and  place  of  his  destruction,  there  is  still  some  doubt  about  the 
mode.  He  perished  on  the  Niger  near  Boussa,  where  there  are 
rocks  and  eddies  in  the  river  ; there  was  a fight,  and  it  was  near 
the  close  of  1805.  The  remaining  doubt  is,  whether  the  natives 
awaited  the  white  men,  to  cut  them  off  at  a narrow  part  of  the 
river ; or  whether,  as  some  of  the  natives  have  recently  said,  the 
blacks  on  the  shore,  gesticulating  with  a friendly  meaning  to  give 
warning  of  the  whirlpool,  were  taken  for  enemies,  and  fired  upon. 
Either  way,  while  the  white  men  were  skirmishing  with  the 
blacks,  the  boat  was  swept  into  the  eddy  and  sunk.  Some  of 
the  clothes,  arms,  and  papers,  of  the  traveller  have  been  seen  by 
succeeding  discoverers,  whose  adventures  we  shall  have  to  track 
hereafter.  Park  was  the  first  of  the  devoted  band  who  returned 
to  tell  what  he  had  seen ; and  his  narrative  was  received  with 
extreme  eagerness.  To  this  day,  though  many  have  gone,  and 
some  have  returned,  like  him,  to  give  us  knowledge,  and  then 
gone  back  to  perish,  Park’s  name  is  the  most  tenderly  spoken, 
and  every  fragment  of  his  experience,  and  of  information  about 
him,  is  still  caught  up  with  a stronger  interest  than  any  of  his 
successors  have  ever  commanded.  He  was  only  thirty -four  when 
he  died. 


END  OF  THE  INTRODUCTION. 


■ Vi;  . ' f f-V 

j.':--/  ' •/ 

... 


